William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

281. Sonnet 42: That Thou Hast Her, It Is Not All My Grief 1/13/2003
282. Sonnet 13: O, That You Were Your Self! But, Love, You Are 1/13/2003
283. Sonnet 122: Thy Gift, Thy Tables, Are Within My Brain 1/13/2003
284. Take, O Take Those Lips Away 1/4/2003
285. Sonnet 133: Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan 1/13/2003
286. Sonnet 93: So Shall I Live, Supposing Thou Art True 1/13/2003
287. Sonnet 148: O Me! What Eyes Hath Love Put In My Head 1/13/2003
288. Sonnet 149: Canst Thou, O Cruel, Say I Love Thee Not 1/13/2003
289. Sonnet 95: How Sweet And Lovely Dost Thou Make The Shame 1/13/2003
290. Sonnet 154: The Little Love-God Lying Once Asleep 1/13/2003
291. Sonnet 140: Be Wise As Thou Art Cruel; Do Not Press 1/13/2003
292. Sonnet 143: Lo, As A Careful Huswife Runs To Catch 1/13/2003
293. The Blossom 1/4/2003
294. Sonnet 49: Against That Time, If Ever That Time Come 1/13/2003
295. Sonnet 66: Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry 1/13/2003
296. Sonnets Xviii: Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? 1/1/2004
297. Now, My Co-Mates And Brothers In Exile 3/29/2010
298. Sonnet 16: But Wherefore Do Not You A Mightier Way 1/13/2003
299. Sonnet 150: O From What Power Hast Thou This Powerful Might 1/13/2003
300. When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought (Sonnet 30) 1/20/2003
301. Sonnet 90: Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt; If Ever, Now 1/13/2003
302. Sonnet 2: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow 1/13/2003
303. Sonnet 123: No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change 1/13/2003
304. Sonnet 107: Not Mine Own Fears, Nor The Prophetic Soul 1/13/2003
305. Sonnet 73: That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold 1/13/2003
306. Sonnet 120: That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now 1/13/2003
307. Sonnet 50: How Heavy Do I Journey On The Way 1/13/2003
308. Sonnet 31: Thy Bosom Is EndearÈD With All Hearts 1/13/2003
309. Sonnet 11: As Fast As Thou Shalt Wane, So Fast Thou Grow'st 1/13/2003
310. Sonnet 108: What's In The Brain That Ink May Character 1/13/2003
311. Sonnet 57: Being Your Slave, What Should I Do But Tend 1/13/2003
312. Sonnet 126: O Thou, My Lovely Boy, Who In Thy Power 1/13/2003
313. Sonnet 115: Those Lines That I Before Have Writ Do Lie 1/13/2003
314. Sonnet 1: 3/30/2010
315. Sonnet 118: Like As To Make Our Appetite More Keen 1/13/2003
316. Sonnet 152: In Loving Thee Thou Know'st I Am Forsworn 1/13/2003
317. Sonnet 19: Devouring Time Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws 1/13/2003
318. Sonnet 111: O, For My Sake Do You With Fortune Chide 1/13/2003
319. Sonnet 114: Or Whether Doth My Mind, Being Crowned With You 1/13/2003
320. Sonnet 60: Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbled Shore 1/13/2003

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • king ju um (11/29/2018 6:55:00 AM)

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  • Pyrocynical''s dad (11/29/2018 6:54:00 AM)

    I just got out jail were we landing bois

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    3 person did not like.
  • William Shakespeare (11/29/2018 6:50:00 AM)

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    5 person liked.
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  • The Truth Hurts (11/23/2018 6:08:00 PM)

    Your mother gay, your dad lesbian, your sister a mister, your brother a mother, your granny a tranny.

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    8 person did not like.
  • ryan peterson (11/22/2018 4:41:00 PM)

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  • TRACER (11/22/2018 4:39:00 PM)

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  • TIK TOK 4 LIFE (11/22/2018 4:39:00 PM)

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  • SPONGE BOB (11/22/2018 4:35:00 PM)

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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 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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