Author: William Shakespeare

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, […]

Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because […]

So, now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll […]

In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now […]

FROM fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty’s rose might never die, But as the riper should by time […]

When I consider everything that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but […]

The forward violet thus did I chide: “Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from […]

When thou shalt be disposed to set me light And place my merit in the eye of scorn, Upon thy […]

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving, O, but with […]

? or John Fletcher. ORPHEUS with his lute made trees And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he […]

If there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, Which, labouring for […]

Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own […]

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are […]

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; And for […]

Alas, ’tis true I have gone here and there And made myself a motley to the view, Gor’d mine own […]