Poems by William Shakespeare

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The ...

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the...

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as t...

For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if th...

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy mig...

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and ...

My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show ap...

Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argu...

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Such se...

Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovè d as an idol show,
Since all alike my ...

When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making...

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can ye...

What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's ...

O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify.
As easy migh...

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st
In one of thine, from that which thou departes...