All Poems
/ page 1421 of 3210 /
Sonnet CII
© William Shakespeare
My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear:
That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Sonnet CI
© William Shakespeare
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.
A Gravestone Upon The Floor In The Cloisters Of Worcester Cathedral
© William Wordsworth
"MISERRIMUS," and neither name nor date,
Prayer, text, or symbol, graven upon the stone;
Sonnet C
© William Shakespeare
Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Jungfru Maria
© Erik Axel Karlfeldt
Hon kommer utför ängarna vid Sjugareby.
Hon är en liten kulla med mandelblommans hy,
Sonnet 99: The forward violet thus did I chide
© William Shakespeare
The forward violet thus did I chide:
"Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells
Sonnet 98: From you have I been absent in the spring
© William Shakespeare
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.
Sonnet 97: How like a winter hath my absence been
© William Shakespeare
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
Vanity of Vanities
© Robert Fuller Murray
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.
Ye shall pass and be forgot,
And your place shall know you not.
Sonnet 96: Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness
© William Shakespeare
Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace and faults are loved of more and less;
Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort.
Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
© William Shakespeare
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!
Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none
© William Shakespeare
They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing, they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmovèd, cold, and to temptation slow,
The Woman In The Moon
© Arthur Symons
A naked youth adores the mocking Sun,
With a woman's sidelong eyes and lips,
Quiet Joy.
© Robert Crawford
No Lethean ease, but such a mood as craves
For naught in earth and heaven, just to breathe
The simple air of our reality
Like creatures of the season, earthy, and
Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away
© William Shakespeare
But do thy worst to steal thy self away,
For term of life thou art assurèd mine,
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.
Dream Song 17: Muttered Henry:—Lord of matter, thus
© John Berryman
Muttered Henry:-Lord of matter, thus:
upon some more unquiet spirit knock,
my madnesses have cease.
All the quarter astonishes a lonely out & back.
They set their clocks by Henry House,
the steadiest man on the block.
Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill
© William Shakespeare
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
Some in their garments though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
Sonnet 90: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now
© William Shakespeare
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss.
The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis. 1756
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Around Sebago's lonely lake
There lingers not a breeze to break
The mirror which its waters make.
