The Sonnets V - Those hours, that with gentle work did frame

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty oer-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summers distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beautys effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
But flowers distilld, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

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 XXXV - No more be grievd at that which thou hast done

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XIV - Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XXVII - Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

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

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 LXV - Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality oersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O! how shall summers honey breath hold out,
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Times best jewel from Times chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets II - When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beautys field,
Thy youths proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tatterd weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deservd thy beautys use,
If thou couldst answer This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,
Proving his beauty by succession thine!
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feelst it cold.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XII - When I do count the clock that tells the time

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered oer with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summers green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing gainst Times scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XXXIII - Full many a glorious morning have I seen

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow;
But out! alack! he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath maskd him from me now.
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
Suns of the world may stain when heavens sun staineth.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets VI - Then let not winters ragged hand deface

Then let not winters ragged hand deface,
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distilld:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beautys treasure ere it be self-killd.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
Thats for thy self to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigurd thee:
Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-willd, for thou art much too fair
To be deaths conquest and make worms thine heir.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXXIII - That time of year thou mayst in me behold

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruind choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Deaths second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consumd with that which it was nourishd by.
This thou perceivst, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.

William Shakespeare