William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

41. Sonnet Viii 5/21/2001
42. Sonnets Xi 1/4/2003
43. Sonnet Ix 5/21/2001
44. Sonnet Xlvi 5/21/2001
45. Sonnet Xc 5/21/2001
46. Sonnet Lxxxviii 5/21/2001
47. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
48. Sonnet Xlix 5/21/2001
49. Sonnet Xxxi 5/21/2001
50. Sonnet Lvi 5/21/2001
51. The Canakin Clink Pub Song (From 'Othello') 2/4/2015
52. Sonnet Lxxvi 12/31/2002
53. Sonnets Vi 1/4/2003
54. Sonnet Lxxx 5/21/2001
55. Helen's Soliloqy (All's Well That Ends Well) 3/3/2015
56. Sonnet Lvii 5/21/2001
57. Sonnets Xiii 1/4/2003
58. Sonnet Xci 5/21/2001
59. Sonnet Xcvi 5/21/2001
60. Sonnet Xlv 5/21/2001
61. Sonnet Cxxxix 5/18/2001
62. Sonnet Cxxxviii 5/18/2001
63. Sonnet Xxvi 5/21/2001
64. Sonnet Lxxxi 5/21/2001
65. Sonnet Xli 5/21/2001
66. Sonnet Xxvii 5/21/2001
67. Sonnet Lxxii 12/31/2002
68. Sonnet Lxxi 12/31/2002
69. Sonnets Iv 1/4/2003
70. Sonnets Ii 1/4/2003
71. Sonnet Xvii 5/21/2001
72. Sonnet Xxxvi 5/21/2001
73. Sonnet Xxi 5/21/2001
74. Sonnets Iii 1/4/2003
75. Sonnet I: From Fairest Creatures We Desire Increase 1/3/2003
76. Sonnet Lxiii 5/21/2001
77. Sonnet Lxxiii 12/31/2002
78. Sonnet Lxxxv 5/21/2001
79. Sonnet Xlvii 5/21/2001
80. Sonnet Lxxxix 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 Cviii

What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case

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