Treasure Island

William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet 95: 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 beauty's 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-used doth lose his edge.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: beauty, rose, heart, sonnet, lost

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. Roost, David Harris
  2. Tel Aviv on Amphetamines, Guy Shaked
  3. Tears Flow, Seinu Abdulgafar
  4. 'We Are All Michael Brown' Tanka, Chenou Liu
  5. Steal Away, Francie Lynch
  6. love1, andy pierce
  7. a little piddle, lee fones
  8. The Man Who Chased The Moon, Tanja Bulovic
  9. Exit out, J.E. Deen
  10. Royal Orphan, George Egba

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]