Top 100 Poems About: SONNET

In this page, poems on / about “sonnet” are listed.
  • 1.
    Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

    Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
    Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
    And summer's lease hath all too short a date. read more »

    William Shakespeare
  • 2.
    Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

    Do not stand at my grave and weep
    I am not there. I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow.
    I am the diamond glints on snow. read more »

    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  • 3.
    Acquainted With The Night

    I have been one acquainted with the night.
    I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
    I have outwalked the furthest city light. read more »

    Robert Frost
  • 4.
    Whoso List To Hunt, I Know Where Is An Hind

    Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
    But as for me, hélas, I may no more.
    The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
    I am of them that farthest cometh behind. read more »

    Sir Thomas Wyatt
  • 5.
    Amoretti Lxvii: Like As A Huntsman

    Like as a huntsman after weary chase,
    Seeing the game from him escap'd away,
    Sits down to rest him in some shady place,
    With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: read more »

    Edmund Spenser
  • 6.
    Sonnet Xvii

    I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
    or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
    I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
    in secret, between the shadow and the soul. read more »

    Pablo Neruda
  • 7.
    Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still

    My love is as a fever, longing still
    For that which longer nurseth the disease,
    Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
    Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. read more »

    William Shakespeare
  • 8.

    I met a traveller from an antique land
    Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
    Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
    Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, read more »

    Percy Bysshe Shelley
  • 9.
    Sweet Rose Of Virtue

    Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
    delightful lily of youthful wantonness,
    richest in bounty and in beauty clear
    and in every virtue that is held most dear― read more »

    William Dunbar
  • 10.
    Death Be Not Proud

    Death be not proud, though some have called thee
    Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
    For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
    Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee. read more »

    John Donne
  • 11.
    Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon

    With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
    How silently, and with how wan a face!
    What, may it be that even in heav'nly place
    That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! read more »

    Sir Philip Sidney
  • 12.
    The Unreturning

    Suddenly night crushed out the day and hurled
    Her remnants over cloud-peaks, thunder-walled.
    Then fell a stillness such as harks appalled read more »

    Wilfred Owen
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