The Sonnets VIII - Music to hear, why hearst thou music sadly?

Music to hear, why hearst thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lovst thou that which thou receivst not gladly,
Or else receivst with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: Thou single wilt prove none.

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 LVII - Being your slave what should I do but tend

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXVII - Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XLIV - If the dull substance of my flesh were thought

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XXVI - Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage

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 CXXVIII - How oft when thou, my music, music playst

How oft when thou, my music, music playst,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently swayst
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,
At the woods boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickled, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips,
Oer whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
Making dead wood more blessd than living lips.
Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CII - My love is strengthend, though more weak in seeming

My love is strengthend, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandizd, whose rich esteeming,
The owners tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summers front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXXXII - I grant thou wert not married to my Muse

I grant thou wert not married to my Muse,
And therefore mayst without attaint oerlook
The dedicated words which writers use
Of their fair subject, blessing every book.
Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
Finding thy worth a limit past my praise;
And therefore art enforced to seek anew
Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days.
And do so, love; yet when they have devisd,
What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
Thou truly fair, wert truly sympathizd
In true plain words, by thy true-telling friend;
And their gross painting might be better usd
Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abusd.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXXV - So are you to my thoughts as food to life

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-seasond showers are to the ground;
And for the peace of you I hold such strife
As twixt a miser and his wealth is found.
Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then betterd that the world may see my pleasure:
Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,
And by and by clean starved for a look;
Possessing or pursuing no delight,
Save what is had, or must from you be took.
Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
Or gluttoning on all, or all away.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XCV - How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name, blesses an ill report.
O! what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beautys veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
The hardest knife ill-usd doth lose his edge.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXIX - Those parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view

Those parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view
Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Thy outward thus with outward praise is crownd;
But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own,
In other accents do this praise confound
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that in guess they measure by thy deeds;
Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets VIII - Music to hear, why hearst thou music sadly?

Suggested Poems

The Sonnets VIII - Music to hear, why hearst thou music sadly?