William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

1. Sonnet Xxvi 5/21/2001
2. Sonnet Xxxix 5/21/2001
3. Sonnet Xli 5/21/2001
4. Sonnet Xxv 5/21/2001
5. The Canakin Clink Pub Song (From 'Othello') 2/4/2015
6. The Rival Poet Sonnets (78 - 86) 3/29/2010
7. From The Rape Of Lucrece 4/17/2015
8. Sonnet Xlv 5/21/2001
9. Sonnet Xxii 5/21/2001
10. The Dark Lady Sonnets (127 - 154) 3/29/2010
11. Sonnet Xliv 5/21/2001
12. Sonnet Cxxxv 5/18/2001
13. Sonnet Xxxvii 5/21/2001
14. Sonnets Xiii 1/4/2003
15. Sonnet Cxxxiii 5/18/2001
16. Sonnet Xlviii 5/21/2001
17. Sonnet Xxxv 5/21/2001
18. Sonnet Xl 5/21/2001
19. Sonnet Xxviii 5/21/2001
20. Sonnets Xvi 1/4/2003
21. Sonnet Xvii 5/21/2001
22. Sonnet Xiii 5/21/2001
23. Sonnet Cxxxiv 5/18/2001
24. The Procreation Sonnets (1 - 17) 3/29/2010
25. Sonnet Xxiii 5/21/2001
26. Sonnet Xcv 5/21/2001
27. Sonnet Xlvi 5/21/2001
28. Sonnet Lxxxviii 5/21/2001
29. Sonnet Ix 5/21/2001
30. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
31. Sonnet Xlix 5/21/2001
32. Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/3/2003
33. Sonnet Xxxi 5/21/2001
34. Sonnet Xlii 5/21/2001
35. Sonnets Xiv 1/4/2003
36. Sonnet Xcix 5/21/2001
37. Sonnet Xii 5/21/2001
38. Sonnet Lxxxvii 5/21/2001
39. Sonnet Lxxxvi 5/21/2001
40. Sonnet Xxxii: If Thou Survive My Well-Contented Day 1/3/2003
Best Poem of William Shakespeare

All The World's A Stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in ...

Read the full of All The World's A Stage

Sonnet Ci

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermix'd?'
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?

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