Sonnet CVI

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have expressed Even […]...
2. Sonnets xvi WHEN in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rime In praise of Ladies dead and lovely Knights; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have exprest Even […]...
3. Sonnet II When forty winters shall beseige thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes, […]...
4. Sonnet 2: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now, Will be a tattered weed of small worth held. Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say within thine own deep sunken […]...
5. Sonnet II: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field, Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter’d weed, of small worth held: Then being ask’d where all thy beauty lies, Where all the treasure of thy lusty days, To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes, […]...
6. Sonnet LXX That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
7. Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
8. Sonnet LXIX Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d; But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
9. Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Utt’ring bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned, But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
10. Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slandered with a bastard shame. For since each hand hath put on nature’s power, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrowed face, Sweet beauty hath no name no […]...
11. Sonnet LXXXIII I never saw that you did painting need And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed The barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
12. Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed That barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
13. Sonnet CXXVII In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty’s name; But now is black beauty’s successive heir, And beauty slander’d with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on nature’s power, Fairing the foul with art’s false borrow’d face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no […]...
14. Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye, And all my soul, and all my every part; And for this sin there is no remedy, It is so grounded inward in my heart. Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, No shape so true, no truth of such account; And for my self mine own […]...
15. Sonnet LXII Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye And all my soul and all my every part; And for this sin there is no remedy, It is so grounded inward in my heart. Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, No shape so true, no truth of such account; And for myself mine own worth […]...
16. Sonnet XXXIX O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is ‘t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, […]...
17. Sonnet XCV How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! That tongue that tells the story of thy days, Making lascivious comments on thy sport, Cannot dispraise but in a kind […]...
18. Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, That […]...
19. Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! That tongue that tells the story of thy days, Making lascivious comments on thy sport, Cannot dispraise, but in a kind […]...
20. Sonnet 13 XIII To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires. Harry whose tuneful and well measur’d Song First taught our English Musick how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas Ears, committing short and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy to look […]...
21. Sonnet XXIV Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is the painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill, To find where your true image pictured lies; Which in my bosom’s shop is […]...
22. Sonnet II: Not At First Sight Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed; But known worth did in mine of time proceed, Till by degrees it had full conquest got: I saw and liked, I liked but loved not; I lov’d, but straight did not what Love decreed. At […]...
23. Sonnet CXXXII Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain, Have put on black and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that full star that ushers in the […]...
24. Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time, And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessèd than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker […]...
25. Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain. And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that full star that ushers in the […]...
26. Sonnet XVI But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time? And fortify yourself in your decay With means more blessed than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers, Much liker than […]...
27. Sonnet CXXXVII Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, That they behold, and see not what they see? They know what beauty is, see where it lies, Yet what the best is take the worst to be. If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks Be anchor’d in the bay where all men ride, Why of […]...
28. Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is best painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill To find where your true image pictured lies, Which in my bosom’s shop is […]...
29. Sonnet LXXXV THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things, When I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter: So does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings, Begin his witlesse note apace to clatter. But they that skill not of so heauenly matter, All that they know not, enuy or admyre, Rather then enuy let them […]...
30. Sonnet LXVII Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before the bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head; […]...
31. Sonnet XV: You That Do Search You that do search for every purling spring, Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows, And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring; You that do dictionary’s method bring Into your rimes, running in rattling rows; You that poor Petrarch’s long-deceased woes, With new-born sighs and denizen’d wit […]...
32. Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away To live a second life on second head; […]...
33. Sonnet CI O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed? Both truth and beauty on my love depends; So dost thou too, and therein dignified. Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say ‘Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix’d; Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay; But […]...
34. Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed? Both truth and beauty on my love depends; So dost thou too, and therein dignified. Make answer, Muse. Wilt thou not haply say, “Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed, Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay, But […]...
35. Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes That they behold and see not what they see? They know what beauty is, see where it lies, Yet what the best is, take the worst to be. If eyes corrupt by overpartial looks, Be anchored in the bay where all men ride, Why of […]...
36. St. Francis and the Birds Little sisters, the birds: We must praise God, you and I­ You, with songs that fill the sky, I, with halting words. All things tell His praise, Woods and waters thereof sing, Summer, Winter, Autumn, Spring, And the night and days. Yea, and cold and heat, And the sun and stars and moon, Sea with […]...
37. Sonnet LII So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly […]...
38. Sonnet LXXXII I grant thou wert not married to my Muse And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
39. Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse I grant thou wert not married to my Muse, And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book. Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
40. Sonnet XXII My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time’s furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate. For all that beauty that doth cover thee Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast […]...