William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

321. Sonnet 1: 3/30/2010
322. Sonnet 112: Your Love And Pity Doth Th' Impression Fill 1/13/2003
323. Sonnet 146: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth 1/13/2003
324. Sonnet 153: Cupid Laid By His Brand And Fell Asleep 1/13/2003
325. Sonnet 132: Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me 1/13/2003
326. Spring And Winter 1/4/2003
327. Sonnet 119: What Potions Have I Drunk Of Siren Tears 1/13/2003
328. Sonnet Cxvi: Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds 1/3/2003
329. Sonnet 75: So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life 1/13/2003
330. Sonnet 25: Let Those Who Are In Favour With Their Stars 1/13/2003
331. Sonnet 19: Devouring Time Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws 1/13/2003
332. Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear For My Possessing 1/13/2003
333. Sonnet 28: How Can I Then Return In Happy Plight 1/13/2003
334. Sonnet 15: When I Consider Every Thing That Grows 1/13/2003
335. Sonnet 60: Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbled Shore 1/13/2003
336. Sonnet 27: Weary With Toil, I Haste Me To My Bed 1/13/2003
337. Sonnet 104: To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old 3/30/2010
338. Sonnet 10: For Shame, Deny That Thou Bear'st Love To Any 1/13/2003
339. Sonnet 110: Alas, 'Tis True, I Have Gone Here And There 1/13/2003
340. Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind 1/13/2003
341. Sonnet 151: Love Is Too Young To Know What Conscience Is 1/13/2003
342. That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold (Sonnet 73) 1/20/2003
343. Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still 1/13/2003
344. Sonnet 142: Love Is My Sin, And Thy Dear Virtue Hate 1/13/2003
345. Sonnet 101: O Truant Muse, What Shall Be Thy Amends 1/13/2003
346. Orpheus With His Lute Made Trees 1/1/2004
347. Sonnet 129: Th' Expense Of Spirit In A Waste Of Shame 1/13/2003
348. Sonnet 12: When I Do Count The Clock That Tells The Time 1/13/2003
349. Sonnet 71: No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead 1/13/2003
350. Sonnet 106: When In The Chronicle Of Wasted Time 1/13/2003
351. Sonnet 103: Alack, What Poverty My Muse Brings Forth 1/13/2003
352. Witches Chant (From Macbeth) 3/29/2010
353. Sonnet 144: Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair 1/13/2003
354. Sonnet 105: Let Not My Love Be Called Idolatry 1/13/2003
355. Sonnet 17: Who Will Believe My Verse In Time To Come 1/13/2003
356. Sonnet 23: As An Unperfect Actor On The Stage 1/13/2003
357. Sonet Liv 5/18/2001
358. Sonnet 100: Where Art Thou, Muse, That Thou Forget'st So Long 1/13/2003
359. Sonnet 40: Take All My Loves, My Love, Yea, Take Them All 1/13/2003
360. Sonnet 109: O, Never Say That I Was False Of Heart 1/13/2003

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • Ananya saha (7/8/2018 12:05:00 PM)

    Wonderful app

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • someone (7/6/2018 4:55:00 AM)

    guys please check this https: //enghindipoetry.blogspot.com and give feedback.

  • Titly (7/5/2018 9:59:00 AM)

    Nice. I am glad to read his poems.

  • Eresha (7/4/2018 8:43:00 PM)

    Quality of mercy com

  • Phyl E. (7/3/2018 11:25:00 PM)

    Perhaps johncris below is Spanish and mixed up the pronoun? I'll give him some slack if so. Otherwise, not funny, not funny at all.😡

  • Phyl E. (7/3/2018 11:20:00 PM)

    The Bard is the best! Everyone has an opinion and that is great. You just read mine! 🌹🌹🌹❤️❤️❤️

  • Harman (6/29/2018 9:15:00 PM)

    Nice poem

  • Fred S. (6/29/2018 6:05:00 AM)

    which of his poems mentions a turtle dove

  • Veeksha (6/27/2018 9:56:00 PM)

    All the poems are very meaning full . its fabulous

  • Johncris (6/25/2018 10:51:00 AM)

    She is verry good

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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