William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet LXXXII


I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
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 devised
What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized
In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
And their gross painting might be better used
Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.

Submitted: Monday, May 21, 2001
Edited: Monday, May 21, 2001

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

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: friend, time, sonnet

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 LXXXII by William Shakespeare )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 3 comments »

Poem of the Day

poet Joseph Addison

Salve magna parens frugum Saturnia tellus,
Magna virûm! tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis
Aggredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes.
Virg. Geor. 2.

...... Read complete »

   

Trending Poems

  1. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  2. If, Rudyard Kipling
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  5. Oh, the places you'll go!, Adens Kamwi
  6. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  7. No Man Is An Island, John Donne
  8. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  9. Lost Star, Rabindranath Tagore
  10. All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]