William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet Xxi - Poem by William Shakespeare

So is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O' let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
Let them say more than like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.


Comments about Sonnet Xxi by William Shakespeare

  • Rookie - 178 Points Brian Jani (4/26/2014 3:35:00 PM)

    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out  (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: april, heaven, believe, child, moon, mother, beauty, sea, sun, love, sonnet, flower, children



Poem Submitted: Monday, May 21, 2001

Poem Edited: Monday, May 21, 2001


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