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Sonnets
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William Shakespeare
.
Sonnets.
Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at
http://collegebookshelf.net
About the author
ments as Shakespear, Shaksper or even Shaxberd.
Shakespeare's influence on the English-speaking world is
reflected in the ready recognition afforded many quotations
from Shakespearean plays (http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/
Shakespeare), the titles of works based on Shakespearean
phrases, and the many adaptations of his plays. Other indica-
tors of contemporary influence are his inclusion in the top 10
of the "100 Greatest Britons" poll sponsored by the BBC,
the frequent productions based on his work, such as the BBC
Television Shakespeare, and the success of the fictional ac-
count of his life in the 1998 film Shakespeare in Love.
William Shakespeare
(born April 1564, baptised
April 26, 1564, died April
23, 1616 Julian calendar,
May 3, 1616 Gregorian cal-
endar) is widely considered
to have been the greatest
writer the English language
has ever known. As a play-
wright, he wrote not only
some of the most powerful
tragedies, but also many com-
edies.
He also wrote 154 sonnets and several major poems, some
of which are considered to be the most brilliant pieces of
English literature ever written, because of Shakespeare's abil-
ity to rise beyond the narrative and describe the innermost
and the most profound aspects of human nature. He is be-
lieved to have written most of his works between 1585 and
1613, although the exact dates and chronology of the plays
attributed to him are not accurately known. There was no
standardized spelling in Elizabethan England, and
Shakespeare's name is often rendered in contemporary docu-
William Shakespeare
.
Sonnets.
Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at
http://collegebookshelf.net
Contents
35. No more be grieved at that which thou hast done, . . .
36. Let me confess that we two must be twain, . . .
37. As a decrepit father takes delight, . . .
38. How can my muse want subject to invent . . .
39. O how thy worth with manners may I sing, . . .
40. Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all, . . .
41. Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, . . .
42. That thou hast her it is not all my grief, . . .
43. When most I wink then do mine eyes best see, . . .
44. If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, . . .
45. The other two, slight air, and purging fire, . . .
46. Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, . . .
47. Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, . . .
48. How careful was I when I took my way, . . .
49. Against that time (if ever that time come) . . .
50. How heavy do I journey on the way, . . .
51. Thus can my love excuse the slow offence, . . .
52. So am I as the rich whose blessed key, . . .
53. What is your substance, whereof are you made, . . .
54. O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, . . .
55. Not marble, nor the gilded monuments . . .
56. Sweet love renew thy force, be it not said . . .
57. Being your slave what should I do but tend, . . .
58. That god forbid, that made me first your slave, . . .
59. If there be nothing new, but that which is, . . .
60. Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, . . .
61. Is it thy will, thy image should keep open . . .
62. Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye, . . .
63. Against my love shall be as I am now . . .
1. From fairest creatures we desire increase, . . .
2. When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, . . .
3. Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, . . .
4. Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend, . . .
5. Those hours that with gentle work did frame . . .
6. Then let not winter's ragged hand deface, . . .
7. Lo in the orient when the gracious light . . .
8. Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly? . . .
9. Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye, . . .
10. For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any . . .
11. As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow'st, . . .
12. When I do count the clock that tells the time, . . .
13. O that you were your self, but love you are . . .
14. Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck, . . .
15. When I consider every thing that grows . . .
16. But wherefore do not you a mightier way . . .
17. Who will believe my verse in time to come . . .
18. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? . . .
19. Devouring Time blunt thou the lion's paws, . . .
20. A woman's face with nature's own hand painted, . . .
21. So is it not with me as with that muse, . . .
22. My glass shall not persuade me I am old, . . .
23. As an unperfect actor on the stage, . . .
24. Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled, . . .
25. Let those who are in favour with their stars, . . .
26. Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage . . .
27. Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, . . .
28. How can I then return in happy plight . . .
29. When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, . . .
30. When to the sessions of sweet silent thought, . . .
31. Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, . . .
32. If thou survive my well-contented day, . . .
33. Full many a glorious morning have I seen, . . .
34. Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day, . . .
Contents continued on the next page.
Click on a number in the ist to go to the first line of that sonnet.
Note:
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William Shakespeare
.
Sonnets.
Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at
http://collegebookshelf.net
64. When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced . . .
65. Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, . . .
66. Tired with all these for restful death I cry, . . .
67. Ah wherefore with infection should he live, . . .
68. Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, . . .
69. Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view, . . .
70. That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, . . .
71. No longer mourn for me when I am dead, . . .
72. O lest the world should task you to recite, . . .
73. That time of year thou mayst in me behold, . .
.
74. But be contented when that fell arrest, . . .
75. So are you to my thoughts as food to life, . . .
76. Why is my verse so barren of new pride? . . .
77. Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, . . .
78. So oft have I invoked thee for my muse, . . .
79. Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, . . .
80. O how I faint when I of you do write, . . .
81. Or I shall live your epitaph to make, . . .
82. I grant thou wert not married to my muse, . . .
83. I never saw that you did painting need, . . .
84. Who is it that says most, which can say more, . . .
85. My tongue-tied muse in manners holds her still, . . .
86. Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, . . .
87. Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, . . .
88. When thou shalt be disposed to set me light, . . .
89. Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, . . .
90. Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now, . . .
91. Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, . . .
92. But do thy worst to steal thy self away, . . .
93. So shall I live, supposing thou art true, . . .
94. They that have power to hurt, and will do none, . . .
95. How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame, . . .
96. Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness, . . .
97. How like a winter hath my absence been . . .
98. From you have I been absent in the spring, . . .
99. The forward violet thus did I chide, . . .
100. Where art thou Muse that thou forget'st so long, . . .
101. O truant Muse what shall be thy amends, . . .
102. My love is strengthened though more weak in seeming, . . .
103. Alack what poverty my muse brings forth, . . .
104. To me fair friend you never can be old, . . .
105. Let not my love be called idolatry, . . .
106. When in the chronicle of wasted time, . . .
107. Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul, . . .
108. What's in the brain that ink may character, . . .
109. O never say that I was false of heart, . . .
110. Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there, . . .
111. O for my sake do you with Fortune chide, . . .
112. Your love and pity doth th' impression fill, . . .
113. Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind, . . .
114. Or whether doth my mind being crowned with you . . .
115. Those lines that I before have writ do lie, . . .
116. Let me not to the marriage of true minds . . .
117. Accuse me thus, that I have scanted all, . . .
118. Like as to make our appetite more keen . . .
119. What potions have I drunk of Siren tears . . .
120. That you were once unkind befriends me now, . . .
121. 'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, . . .
122. Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain . . .
123. No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change, . . .
124. If my dear love were but the child of state, . . .
125. Were't aught to me I bore the canopy, . . .
126. O thou my lovely boy who in thy power, . . .
127. In the old age black was not counted fair, . . .
Contents continued on the next page.
Click on a number in the list to go to the first line of that sonnet.
Note:
The best way to read this ebook is in Full Screen mode: click View, Full
Screen to set Adobe Acrobat to Full Screen View. This mode allows you to
use Page Down to go to the next page, and affords the best reading view.
Press Escape to exit the Full Screen View.
William Shakespeare
.
Sonnets.
Purchase the entire Coradella Collegiate Bookshelf on CD at
http://collegebookshelf.net
128. How oft when thou, my music, music play'st, . . .
129. Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame . . .
130. My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun, . . .
131. Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, . . .
132. Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, . . .
133. Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan . . .
134. So now I have confessed that he is thine, . . .
135. Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will, . . .
136. If thy soul check thee that I come so near, . . .
137. Thou blind fool Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, . . .
138. When my love swears that she is made of truth, . . .
139. O call not me to justify the wrong, . . .
140. Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press . . .
141. In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, . . .
142. Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, . . .
143. Lo as a careful huswife runs to catch, . . .
144. Two loves I have of comfort and despair, . . .
145. Those lips that Love's own hand did make, . . .
146. Poor soul the centre of my sinful earth, . . .
147. My love is as a fever longing still, . . .
148. O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, . . .
149. Canst thou O cruel, say I love thee not, . . .
150. O from what power hast thou this powerful might, .
. .
151. Love is too young to know what conscience is, . . .
152. In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, . . .
153. Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep, . . .
154. The little Love-god lying once asleep, . . .
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