The Sonnets CXXXIII - Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Ist not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweetst friend must be?
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossd:
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken;
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be crossd:
Prison my heart in thy steel bosoms ward,
But then my friends heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoeer keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail:
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor, regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's greatest dramatist. Known as the 'Bard of Avon,' his extant works include approximately 39 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CLIV - The little Love-god lying once asleep

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XXIV - Mine eye hath playd the painter and hath stelld

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XCII - But do thy worst to steal thyself away

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXXIX - The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Sonnets CXXXIX - O! call not me to justify the wrong

O! call not me to justify the wrong
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
Tell me thou lovst elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What needst thou wound with cunning, when thy might
Is more than my oerpressd defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XLVI - Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy pictures sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
A closet never piercd with crystal eyes
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To side this title is impannelled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eyes moiety, and the dear hearts part:
As thus; mine eyes due is thy outward part,
And my hearts right, thy inward love of heart.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XLII - That thou hast her it is not all my grief

That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye:
Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
If I lose thee, my loss is my loves gain,
And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
But heres the joy; my friend and I are one;
Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXII - Your love and pity doth the impression fill

Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
Which vulgar scandal stampd upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you oer-green my bad, my good allow?
You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeld sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others voices, that my adders sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
That all the world besides methinks are dead.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXVI - Tired with all these, for restful death I cry

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplacd,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgracd,
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalld simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tird with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXIII - Against my love shall be as I am now

Against my love shall be as I am now,
With Times injurious hand crushd and oerworn;
When hours have draind his blood and filld his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Hath travelld on to ages steepy night;
And all those beauties whereof now hes king
Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight,
Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
For such a time do I now fortify
Against confounding ages cruel knife,
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet loves beauty, though my lovers life:
His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
And they shall live, and he in them still green.

William Shakespeare