Home ⇒ 📌William Shakespeare ⇒ Sonnet XCVIII
Sonnet XCVIII
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April dress’d in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play:
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- From you have I been absent in the spring… (Sonnet 98) From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him, Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odor and in hue, Could make me any […]...
- Sonnet 98: From you have I been absent in the spring From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me […]...
- Sonnet XXIX: When Conquering Love To the Senses When conquering Love did first my Heart assail, Unto mine aid I summon’d every Sense, Doubting, if that proud tyrant should prevail, My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes’ offence; But he with Beauty first corrupted Sight, My Hearing bribed with her tongue’s harmony, My Taste by her sweet lips drawn with […]...
- Sonnet LXXVI FAyre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure, The neast of loue, the lodging of delight: The bowre of blisse, the paradice of pleasure, The sacred harbour of that heuenly spright. How was I rauisht with your louely sight, And my frayle thoughts too rashly led astray? Whiles diuing deepe through amorous insight, On the sweet […]...
- Sonnet 54: O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumèd tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and […]...
- Sonnet XXXIX SWeet smile, the daughter of the Queene of loue, Expressing all thy mothers powrefull art: With which she wonts to temper angry loue, When all the gods he threats with thundring dart. Sweet is thy vertue as thy selfe sweet art, For when on me thou shinedst late in sadnesse: A melting pleasance ran through […]...
- Sonnet V Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel: For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter and confounds him there; Sap cheque’d with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’ersnow’d […]...
- Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace it self with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steal dead seeming of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is […]...
- Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel; For never-resting Time leads summer on To hideous winter and confounds him there, Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’ersnowed […]...
- Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel; For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter, and confounds him there; Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’er-snowed […]...
- Sonnet LXXV So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found; Now proud as an enjoyer and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure, Now counting best […]...
- Sonnet 75: So are you to my thoughts as food to life So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found. Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; Now counting best […]...
- Sonnet LXIIII COmming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres: That dainty odours from them threw around For damzels fit to decke their louers bowres. Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers, Her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red: Her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures, Her louely […]...
- My Legacy My friend has gone away from me From shadow into perfect light, But leaving a sweet legacy. My heart shall hold it long in fee A grand ideal, calm and bright, A song of hope for ministry, A faith of unstained purity, A thought of beauty for delight These did my friend bequeath to me; […]...
- Hymn To Eros O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me. Let the shadow of thy wings Brush me. Let thy presence Enfold me, as if darkness Were swandown. Let me see that darkness Lamp in hand, This country become The other country Sacred to desire. Drowsy god, Slow the wheels of my thought So that I listen only […]...
- Widow McFarlane I was the Widow McFarlane, Weaver of carpets for all the village. And I pity you still at the loom of life, You who are singing to the shuttle And lovingly watching the work of your hands, If you reach the day of hate, of terrible truth. For the cloth of life is woven, you […]...
- Cadenza THE KNEES of this proud woman Are bone. The elbows of this proud woman Are bone. The summer-white stars and the winter-white stars Never stop circling around this proud woman. The bones of this proud woman Answer the vibrations of the stars. In summer The stars speak deep thoughts In the winter The stars repeat […]...
- Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are O, that you were your self! But, love, you are No longer yours than you yourself here live. Against this coming end you should prepare, And your sweet semblance to some other give. So should that beauty which you hold in lease Find no determination; then you were Yourself again after yourself’s decease, When your […]...
- Sonnet LXXXIX Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desired change, As I’ll myself disgrace: knowing thy will, I […]...
- Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desirèd change, As I’ll my self disgrace, knowing thy will, […]...
- Sonnet XXVI SWeet is the Rose, but growes vpon a brere; Sweet is the Iunipere, but sharpe his bough; Sweet is the Eglantine, but pricketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but his braunches rough. Sweet is the Cypresse, but his rynd is tough, Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but […]...
- 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, […]...
- Sonnet XXXVII As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by fortune’s dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any of these all, or all, or more, Entitled in thy parts do crowned […]...
- Sonnet XIX Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws, And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood; Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her […]...
- 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 […]...
- Sonnet 37: As a decrepit father takes delight As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any of these all, or all, or more, Entitled in thy parts, do crownèd […]...
- 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, […]...
- 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 […]...
- Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion's paws Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood, Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws, And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood, Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st, And do whate’er thou wilt swift-footed Time To the wide world and all her […]...
- Sonnet XIX: Devouring Time, Blunt Thou the Lion's Paws Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws, And burn the long-liv’d Phoenix in her blood; Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets, And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time, To the wide world and all her […]...
- Sonet LIV O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns and play […]...
- Sonnets vi O HOW much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The Canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the Roses, Hang on such thorns, and play […]...
- 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 […]...
- 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 […]...
- Sonnet LXXXVII SInce I did leaue the presence of my loue, Many long weary dayes I haue outworne: And many nights, that slowly seemd to moue, Theyr sad protract from euening vntill morne. For when as day the heauen doth adorne, I wish that night the noyous day would end: And when as night hath vs of […]...
- Sonnet LIII What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you; On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires […]...
- Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since everyone hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you; On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are […]...
- Winter Landscape The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older men, […]...
- Sonnet XLV The other two, slight air and purging fire, Are both with thee, wherever I abide; The first my thought, the other my desire, These present-absent with swift motion slide. For when these quicker elements are gone In tender embassy of love to thee, My life, being made of four, with two alone Sinks down to […]...
- Sonnet XXVIII THe laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare, Guies me great hope of your relenting mynd: For since it is the badg which I doe beare, Ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind: The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, Let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire With sweet infusion, and […]...