William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

41. Sonnets To The Sundry Notes Of Music 3/30/2010
42. Sonnet Lxi 5/21/2001
43. The Dark Lady Sonnets (127 - 154) 3/29/2010
44. Sonnet Lxxiii 12/31/2002
45. Sonnet Xlv 5/21/2001
46. Sonnet Lxxxv 5/21/2001
47. Sonnet Lxxxix 5/21/2001
48. Sonnets Xiv 1/4/2003
49. Sonnet Xxxvii 5/21/2001
50. Sonnet Lxxxvi 5/21/2001
51. Sonnet Xliv 5/21/2001
52. Sonnet Lxxix 12/31/2002
53. Sonnets Xv 1/4/2003
54. Sonnet Lxx 12/31/2002
55. Sonnets X 1/4/2003
56. Sonnet Lxxviii 5/21/2001
57. Sonnets Xx 1/4/2003
58. Sonnet Xxxix 5/21/2001
59. Sonnet Xl 5/21/2001
60. Sonnet Lxxxi 5/21/2001
61. Sonnet Vi 5/21/2001
62. Sonnet Lv 5/21/2001
63. Sonnet Xlix 5/21/2001
64. Sonnet Lxxxiii 5/21/2001
65. Sonnet Liii 5/21/2001
66. Sonnets Iii 1/4/2003
67. Sonnet Cxxxiv 5/18/2001
68. Sonnet Xciii 5/21/2001
69. Sonnet Xvi 5/21/2001
70. Sonnet Xlii 5/21/2001
71. Sonnet Xxiii 5/21/2001
72. Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/3/2003
73. Sonnet Xxii 5/21/2001
74. Sonnet Lxxxiv 5/21/2001
75. Sonnets Liii: What Is Your Substance, Whereof Are You Made 1/1/2004
76. Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More 3/30/2010
77. Sonnet Xxxiii 5/21/2001
78. Sonnet Xxviii 5/21/2001
79. Sonnets Iv 1/4/2003
80. Sonnet Iv: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend 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 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

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