William Shakespeare Poems

  • 451.  
    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?
  • 452.  
    Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
    Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, To thee I send this written embassage,
  • 453.  
    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,
  • 454.  
    Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
    And each doth good turns now unto the other,When that mine eye is famished for a look,
  • 455.  
    If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
    Injurious distance should not stop my way; For then despite of space I would be brought,
  • 456.  
    Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,'
    And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in overplus; More than enough am I that vex thee still,
  • 457.  
    But wherefore do not you a mightier way
    Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time,And fortify your self in your decay
  • 458.  
    When I consider everything that grows
    Holds in perfection but a little moment,That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
  • 459.  
    Lo, in the orient when the gracious light
    Lifts up his burning head, each under eyeDoth homage to his new-appearing sight,
  • 460.  
    Against that time, if ever that time come,
    When I shall see thee frown on my defects,When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
  • 461.  
    Let me confess that we two must be twain,
    Although our undivided loves are one: So shall those blots that do with me remain
  • 462.  
    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,
  • 463.  
    Who will believe my verse in time to come,
    If it were fill'd with your most high deserts? Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
  • 464.  
    COME unto these yellow sands,
       And then take hands: Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,--
  • 465.  
    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 everything,
  • 466.  
    Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
    What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
  • 467.  
    Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
    For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! Is't not enough to torture me alone,
  • 468.  
    When that I was and a little tiny boy,
    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,A foolish thing was but a toy,
  • 469.  
    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,
  • 470.  
    Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
    Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
  • 471.  

  • 472.  
    Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
    My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decay'd
  • 473.  
    Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts,
    Which I by lacking have supposèd dead,And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
  • 474.  
    How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
    Upon that blessèd wood whose motion soundsWith thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st
  • 475.  
    Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
    And Phoebus 'gins arise,His steeds to water at those springs
  • 476.  
    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,
  • 477.  
    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;
  • 478.  
    Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
    Or you survive when I in earth am rotten; From hence your memory death cannot take,
  • 479.  
    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
  • 480.  
    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,
  • 481.  
    How careful was I, when I took my way,
    Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay
  • 482.  
    The other two, slight air and purging fire,
    Are both with thee, wherever I abide; The first my thought, the other my desire,
  • 483.  

  • 484.  
    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,
  • 485.  
    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,
  • 486.  
    Round about the couldron go:
    In the poisones entrails throw.Toad,that under cold stone
  • 487.  
    Orpheus with his lute made trees,
    And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing:
  • 488.  
    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,
  • 489.  
    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
  • 490.  
    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,
  • 491.  
    Amiens sings: Under the greenwood tree,
    Who loves to lie with me,And turn his merry note
  • 492.  
    Let the bird of loudest lay
    On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be,
  • 493.  
    On a day-alack the day!-
    Love, whose month is ever May,Spied a blossom passing fair
  • 494.  
    Take, O take those lips away,
    That so sweetly were forsworn;And those eyes, the break of day,
  • 495.  
    O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
    O, stay and hear! your true love 's coming, That can sing both high and low:
  • 496.  
    When icicles hang by the wall,
    And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,And Tom bears logs into the hall,
  • 497.  
    When daisies pied and violets blue,
    And lady-smocks all silver-white,And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
  • 498.  
    Who is Silvia? What is she?
    That all our swains commend her?Holy, fair, and wise is she;
  • 499.  
    Orpheus with his lute made trees
    And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he did sing:
  • 500.  
    Tell me where is Fancy bred,
    Or in the heart or in the head?How begot, how nourishèd?
Total 667 poems written by William Shakespeare

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Christina Rossetti Poem
How Many Seconds?
 by Christina Rossetti

How many seconds in a minute?
Sixty, and no more in it.

How many minutes in an hour?
Sixty for sun and shower.

How many hours in a day?
Twenty-four for work and play.

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