Poet William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare Poems

  • 151.  
    Love is too young to know what conscience is;
    Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
  • 152.  
    In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
    But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing:In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn
  • 153.  
    Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
    A maid of Dian's this advantage found,And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
  • 154.  
    The little love god lying once asleep
    Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep
  • 155.  
    Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
    Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
  • 156.  
    Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
    And Phoebus ‘gins arise,His steeds to water at those springs
  • 157.  
    Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
    Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude;
  • 158.  
    Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
    Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue;
  • 159.  
    Come away, come away, death,
    And in sad cypres let me be laid;Fly away, fly away, breath;
  • 160.  
    Urns and odours bring away!
    Vapours, sighs, darken the day!Our dole more deadly looks than dying;
  • 161.  
    Over hill, over dale,
    Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale,
  • 162.  
    You spotted snakes with double tongue,
    Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;
  • 163.  
    Come unto these yellow sands,
    And then take hands:Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,-
  • 164.  
    Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
    In a cowslip's bell I lie;There I couch when owls do cry.
  • 165.  
    Full fathom five thy father lies;
    Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:
  • 166.  
    Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
    Nor the furious winter's rages;Thou thy worldly task hast done,
  • 167.  
    It was a lover and his lass,
    With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,That o'er the green corn-field did pass,
  • 168.  
    Tell me where is Fancy bred,
    Or in the heart or in the head?How begot, how nourishèd?
  • 169.  
    Orpheus with his lute made trees
    And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he did sing:
  • 170.  
    Who is Silvia? What is she?
    That all our swains commend her?Holy, fair, and wise is she;
  • 171.  
    When daisies pied and violets blue,
    And lady-smocks all silver-white,And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
  • 172.  
    When icicles hang by the wall,
    And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,And Tom bears logs into the hall,
  • 173.  
    O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
    O, stay and hear! your true love 's coming, That can sing both high and low:
  • 174.  
    Take, O take those lips away,
    That so sweetly were forsworn;And those eyes, the break of day,
  • 175.  
    On a day-alack the day!-
    Love, whose month is ever May,Spied a blossom passing fair
  • 176.  
    Let the bird of loudest lay
    On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be,
  • 177.  
    Amiens sings: Under the greenwood tree,
    Who loves to lie with me,And turn his merry note
  • 178.  
    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,
  • 179.  
    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
  • 180.  
    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,
  • 181.  
    Orpheus with his lute made trees,
    And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing:
  • 182.  
    Round about the couldron go:
    In the poisones entrails throw.Toad,that under cold stone
  • 183.  
    That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
    And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
  • 184.  
    Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
    How to divide the conquest of thy sight; Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
  • 185.  

  • 186.  
    The other two, slight air and purging fire,
    Are both with thee, wherever I abide; The first my thought, the other my desire,
  • 187.  
    How careful was I, when I took my way,
    Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay
  • 188.  
    SHALL I compare thee to a Summer's day?
    Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
  • 189.  
    Those lines that I before have writ do lie,
    Even those that said I could not love you dearer: Yet then my judgment knew no reason why
  • 190.  
    Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
    Or you survive when I in earth am rotten; From hence your memory death cannot take,
  • 191.  
    O, call not me to justify the wrong
    That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;
  • 192.  
    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,
  • 193.  
    Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
    And Phoebus 'gins arise,His steeds to water at those springs
  • 194.  
    How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
    Upon that blessèd wood whose motion soundsWith thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
  • 195.  
    Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts,
    Which I by lacking have supposèd dead,And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
  • 196.  
    Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
    My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decay'd
  • 197.  

  • 198.  
    Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
    Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
  • 199.  
    WHEN to the Sessions of sweet silent thought
    I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
  • 200.  
    When that I was and a little tiny boy,
    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,A foolish thing was but a toy,
Total 513 poems written by William Shakespeare

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A March Day In London
 by Amy Levy

The east wind blows in the street to-day;
The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey.
'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire,
Of cold despair and of hot desire,
Which chills the flesh to aches and pains,
And sends a fever through all the veins.

From end to end, with aimless feet,

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