William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

201. Sonnet 15: 3/30/2010
202. Sonnet Cxxii 5/18/2001
203. Sonnet 70: That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect 1/13/2003
204. Sonnet Cx 5/18/2001
205. Sonnet 38: How Can My Muse Want Subject To Invent 1/13/2003
206. Sonnet Cxli 5/18/2001
207. Sonnet 54: O, How Much More Doth Beauty Beauteous Seem 1/13/2003
208. Sonnet 6: Then Let Not Winter's Ragged Hand Deface 1/13/2003
209. Sonnet Cxviii 5/18/2001
210. Sonnet Cv 5/18/2001
211. Sonnet Cxvi 5/18/2001
212. Sonnet 81: Or I Shall Live Your Epitaph To Make 1/13/2003
213. Sonnet Ciii 5/18/2001
214. Sonnet Cxlii 5/18/2001
215. Sonnet Cxliii 5/18/2001
216. Sonnet 107: 3/30/2010
217. Sonnet 135: Whoever Hath Her Wish, Thou Hast Thy Will 1/13/2003
218. Sonnet Cl 5/18/2001
219. Sonnet 39: O, How Thy Worth With Manners May I Sing 1/13/2003
220. Sonnet 51: Thus Can My Love Excuse The Slow Offence 1/13/2003
221. Sonnet Cix 5/18/2001
222. Sonnet 46: Mine Eye And Heart Are At A Mortal War 1/13/2003
223. Sonnet 63: Against My Love Shall Be, As I Am Now 1/13/2003
224. Sonnet 34: Why Didst Thou Promise Such A Beauteous Day 1/13/2003
225. Sonnet Cvii: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor The Prophetic Soul 1/3/2003
226. Sonnet 26: Lord Of My Love, To Whom In Vassalage… 3/30/2010
227. Sonnet 76: Why Is My Verse So Barren Of New Pride? 1/13/2003
228. Sonnet Cxv 5/18/2001
229. Sonnet 32: If Thou Survive My Well-Contented Day 1/13/2003
230. Sonnet Cviii 5/18/2001
231. Sonnet Cxlvi 12/31/2002
232. Sonnet Cxix 5/18/2001
233. Sonnet Cxxi 5/18/2001
234. Sonnet 5: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/13/2003
235. Sonnet 37: As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight 1/13/2003
236. Sonnet Cxlv 5/18/2001
237. Sonnet 85: My Tongue-Tied Muse In Manners Holds Her Still 1/13/2003
238. Sonnet 48: How Careful Was I, When I Took My Way 1/13/2003
239. Sonnet 134: So, Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine 1/13/2003
240. Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More 1/13/2003

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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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