William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

321. Sonnet 114: Or Whether Doth My Mind, Being Crowned With You 1/13/2003
322. When That I Was And A Little Tiny Boy 1/20/2003
323. Now, My Co-Mates And Brothers In Exile 3/29/2010
324. Sonnet 146: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth 1/13/2003
325. Sonnet 153: Cupid Laid By His Brand And Fell Asleep 1/13/2003
326. Sonnet 132: Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me 1/13/2003
327. Spring And Winter 1/4/2003
328. Sonnet 27: Weary With Toil, I Haste Me To My Bed 1/13/2003
329. Sonnet 119: What Potions Have I Drunk Of Siren Tears 1/13/2003
330. Sonnet Cxvi: Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds 1/3/2003
331. Sonnet 75: So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life 1/13/2003
332. Sonnet 25: Let Those Who Are In Favour With Their Stars 1/13/2003
333. Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear For My Possessing 1/13/2003
334. Sonnet 71: No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead 1/13/2003
335. Sonnet 1: 3/30/2010
336. Sonnet 112: Your Love And Pity Doth Th' Impression Fill 1/13/2003
337. Sonnet 28: How Can I Then Return In Happy Plight 1/13/2003
338. Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still 1/13/2003
339. Sonnet 142: Love Is My Sin, And Thy Dear Virtue Hate 1/13/2003
340. Sonnet 110: Alas, 'Tis True, I Have Gone Here And There 1/13/2003
341. Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind 1/13/2003
342. Sonnet 151: Love Is Too Young To Know What Conscience Is 1/13/2003
343. That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold (Sonnet 73) 1/20/2003
344. Sonnet 17: Who Will Believe My Verse In Time To Come 1/13/2003
345. Sonnet 23: As An Unperfect Actor On The Stage 1/13/2003
346. Sonnet 144: Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair 1/13/2003
347. Sonnet 129: Th' Expense Of Spirit In A Waste Of Shame 1/13/2003
348. Sonnet 15: When I Consider Every Thing That Grows 1/13/2003
349. Sonnet 104: To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old 3/30/2010
350. Sonnet 12: When I Do Count The Clock That Tells The Time 1/13/2003
351. Sonnet 10: For Shame, Deny That Thou Bear'st Love To Any 1/13/2003
352. Sonnet 101: O Truant Muse, What Shall Be Thy Amends 1/13/2003
353. Sonnet 40: Take All My Loves, My Love, Yea, Take Them All 1/13/2003
354. Sonnet 20: A Woman's Face With Nature's Own Hand Painted 1/13/2003
355. To Be, Or Not To Be (Hamlet, Act Iii, Scene I) 3/29/2010
356. Sonnet 145: Those Lips That Love's Own Hand Did Make 1/13/2003
357. Sonnet 106: When In The Chronicle Of Wasted Time 1/13/2003
358. Sonnet 109: O, Never Say That I Was False Of Heart 1/13/2003
359. Orpheus With His Lute Made Trees 1/1/2004
360. Sonet Liv 5/18/2001

Comments about William Shakespeare

  • axnti blvckzzz (5/4/2018 5:39:00 AM)

    ur mum is a strippa

    3 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Your fad (5/2/2018 8:58:00 AM)


  • hihihi (4/30/2018 1:09:00 PM)


  • hihihi (4/30/2018 1:08:00 PM)


  • bobby (4/26/2018 1:26:00 PM)

    succ an egg
    to the south and back

  • Tabarak (4/26/2018 8:43:00 AM)

    This is best Heart teaching poem, πŸ’›πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’–

  • Il est tombΓ© (4/26/2018 4:57:00 AM)

    watch this https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=nRoUQulerDI

  • anonymous (4/26/2018 4:56:00 AM)

    hello mon reys

  • sriajl lamichhane magar (4/25/2018 8:28:00 AM)

    very good and beautyful

  • Anurag Kumar Singh (4/25/2018 7:45:00 AM)

    Beautiful poem

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 Lxxvii

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory can not contain

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