William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

1. The Procreation Sonnets (1 - 17) 3/29/2010
2. Sonnet Lix 5/21/2001
3. Sonnet Xxv 5/21/2001
4. Sonnet Xl 5/21/2001
5. Sonnet Xxiv 5/21/2001
6. From The Rape Of Lucrece 4/17/2015
7. Sonnet Xciii 5/21/2001
8. Sonnet Xi 5/21/2001
9. Sonnet Xxii 5/21/2001
10. Sonnet Lxv 5/21/2001
11. Sonnet Xxiii 5/21/2001
12. Sonnet Lxi 5/21/2001
13. Sonnet Viii 5/21/2001
14. Sonnet Xcv 5/21/2001
15. Sonnet Iv: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend 1/3/2003
16. Sonnet Liii 5/21/2001
17. Sonnet Cxxxv 5/18/2001
18. Sonnet Lxxviii 5/21/2001
19. Sonnet Xxxv 5/21/2001
20. Sonnet Lviii 5/21/2001
21. Sonnet Xlviii 5/21/2001
22. The Rival Poet Sonnets (78 - 86) 3/29/2010
23. Sonnet Xxxix 5/21/2001
24. Sonnet Cxxxii 5/18/2001
25. Sonnets Xvi 1/4/2003
26. Sonnet Lv 5/21/2001
27. Sonnet Xvii 5/21/2001
28. Sonnet Lxiii 5/21/2001
29. Sonnet Xiv 5/21/2001
30. Sonnet Lxix 5/21/2001
31. Sonnet Cxxxiv 5/18/2001
32. Sonnet Xlv 5/21/2001
33. Sonnet Lxiv: When I Have Seen By Time's Fell Hand Defac'D 1/3/2003
34. Sonnets Xi 1/4/2003
35. Sonnet Xlii 5/21/2001
36. Sonnets Xiv 1/4/2003
37. Sonnet Lvi 5/21/2001
38. Sonnet Xlix 5/21/2001
39. Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/3/2003
40. Sonnet Xcviii 5/21/2001
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 Lxxvii

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory can not contain

[Hata Bildir]