The Sonnets XC - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath scapd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquerd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposd overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortunes might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compard with loss of thee, will not seem so.

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 XCI - Some glory in their birth, some in their skill

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXXIV - If my dear love were but the child of state

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

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

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXXI - Tis better to be vile than vile esteemd

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 XCII - But do thy worst to steal thyself away

But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assured mine;
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end.
I see a better state to me belongs
Than that which on thy humour doth depend:
Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
O! what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
But whats so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXXXVIII - When thou shalt be disposd to set me light

When thou shalt be disposd to set me light,
And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
Upon thy side, against myself Ill fight,
And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.
With mine own weakness, being best acquainted,
Upon thy part I can set down a story
Of faults conceald, wherein I am attainted;
That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:
And I by this will be a gainer too;
For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
The injuries that to myself I do,
Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.
Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
That for thy right, myself will bear all wrong.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XLIX - Against that time, if ever that time come

Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Calld to that audit by advisd respects;
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
Against that time do I ensconce me here,
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand, against my self uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love I can allege no cause.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXLIX - Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not

Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
On whom frownst thou that I do fawn upon,
Nay, if thou lourst on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in my self respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind,;
Those that can see thou lovst, and I am blind.

William Shakespeare

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 CXLV - Those lips that Loves own hand did make

Those lips that Loves own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said I hate,
To me that languishd for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was usd in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
I hate she alterd with an end,
That followed it as gentle day,
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
I hate, from hate away she threw,
And savd my life, saying not you.

William Shakespeare