William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

41. Sonnet 100: Where Art Thou, Muse, That Thou Forget'st So Long 1/13/2003
42. Sonnet 101: O Truant Muse, What Shall Be Thy Amends 1/13/2003
43. Sonnet 102: My Love Is Strengthened, Though More Weak In Seeming 1/13/2003
44. Sonnet 103: Alack, What Poverty My Muse Brings Forth 1/13/2003
45. Sonnet 104: To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old 3/30/2010
46. Sonnet 105: Let Not My Love Be Called Idolatry 1/13/2003
47. Sonnet 106: When In The Chronicle Of Wasted Time 1/13/2003
48. Sonnet 107: 3/30/2010
49. Sonnet 107: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor The Prophetic Soul 1/13/2003
50. Sonnet 108: What's In The Brain That Ink May Character 1/13/2003
51. Sonnet 109: O, Never Say That I Was False Of Heart 1/13/2003
52. Sonnet 11: As Fast As Thou Shalt Wane, So Fast Thou Grow'st 1/13/2003
53. Sonnet 110: Alas, 'Tis True, I Have Gone Here And There 1/13/2003
54. Sonnet 111: O, For My Sake Do You With Fortune Chide 1/13/2003
55. Sonnet 112: Your Love And Pity Doth Th' Impression Fill 1/13/2003
56. Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind 1/13/2003
57. Sonnet 114: Or Whether Doth My Mind, Being Crowned With You 1/13/2003
58. Sonnet 115: Those Lines That I Before Have Writ Do Lie 1/13/2003
59. Sonnet 116: Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds 1/13/2003
60. Sonnet 118: Like As To Make Our Appetite More Keen 1/13/2003
61. Sonnet 119: What Potions Have I Drunk Of Siren Tears 1/13/2003
62. Sonnet 12: When I Do Count The Clock That Tells The Time 1/13/2003
63. Sonnet 120: That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now 1/13/2003
64. Sonnet 121:Tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile Esteemed 3/30/2010
65. Sonnet 122: Thy Gift, Thy Tables, Are Within My Brain 1/13/2003
66. Sonnet 123: No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change 1/13/2003
67. Sonnet 125: Were'T Aught To Me I Bore The Canopy 1/13/2003
68. Sonnet 126: O Thou, My Lovely Boy, Who In Thy Power 1/13/2003
69. Sonnet 128: How Oft, When Thou, My Music, Music Play'st 1/13/2003
70. Sonnet 129: Th' Expense Of Spirit In A Waste Of Shame 1/13/2003
71. Sonnet 13: O, That You Were Your Self! But, Love, You Are 1/13/2003
72. Sonnet 130: My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun 1/13/2003
73. Sonnet 131: Thou Art As Tyrannous, So As Thou Art 1/13/2003
74. Sonnet 132: Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me 1/13/2003
75. Sonnet 133: Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan 1/13/2003
76. Sonnet 134: So, Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine 1/13/2003
77. Sonnet 135: Whoever Hath Her Wish, Thou Hast Thy Will 1/13/2003
78. Sonnet 136: If Thy Soul Check Thee That I Come So Near 1/13/2003
79. Sonnet 137: Thou Blind Fool, Love, What Dost Thou To Mine Eyes 1/13/2003
80. Sonnet 138: When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth 1/13/2003

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • soham choudhury (1/13/2018 10:39:00 AM)

    excellent and outstanding

    1 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • soham choudhury (1/13/2018 10:39:00 AM)

    really nice poems I like them

  • ksenia (1/11/2018 6:17:00 PM)

    I like it what do u think?


  • khushi kumari (1/11/2018 8:17:00 AM)

    best poem for class 9 NCERT english book

  • farah12 (1/11/2018 3:40:00 AM)

    Very nice

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  • Peter File (1/10/2018 4:44:00 AM)

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  • Uganda warrior (1/9/2018 9:04:00 AM)

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  • uganda knuckles (1/9/2018 9:02:00 AM)

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  • ugandan knuckles (1/8/2018 2:21:00 PM)

    do u kno da wae

  • Little T (1/5/2018 6:20:00 AM)

    My raps are better than Shakespeare's

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 Li

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;

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