Poems by William Shakespeare

Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts?
Though y...

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do s...

Devouring Time blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
Pluck...

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
Thy y...

A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A w...

So is it not with me as with that muse,
Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven it...

My glass shall not persuade me I am old
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in t...

As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thin...

Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart,
My b...

Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, ...

FROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,
...