William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • A dead meme (1/15/2019 12:38:00 PM)

    NOOOOOOOT NOOOOT

    16 person liked.
    17 person did not like.
  • some kid from 2019 (1/15/2019 8:48:00 AM)

    R.I.P Arthur Morgan theres a snake in my boot

    17 person liked.
    17 person did not like.
  • greeks (1/12/2019 3:39:00 PM)

    heh heh heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh

    11 person liked.
    21 person did not like.
  • Jade Castro (1/12/2019 6:08:00 AM)

    http:paydepth.comuserid55439

    6 person liked.
    21 person did not like.
  • Ayush Pandey (1/11/2019 12:09:00 AM)

    Hunter

    5 person liked.
    17 person did not like.
  • roses are red (1/10/2019 8:32:00 PM)

    roses are red, violets are blue, william shakewang did dem hoes, so did you

    13 person liked.
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  • Chadwarden Productions (1/10/2019 8:29:00 PM)

    That looks like a

    4 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • Henry JK (1/7/2019 10:44:00 AM)

    This is extrodinary, its a walking dictionary, Oh no its just Shakespear!

    7 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • Lalit katria (1/2/2019 9:40:00 AM)

    Mercy poem of translation also give me

    5 person liked.
    20 person did not like.
  • Prabir Gayen Prabir Gayen (12/14/2018 12:51:00 AM)

    World's bird and bard of divine nature...

    8 person liked.
    13 person did not like.
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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