english sonnet
61Sonnet 100 — Sonnet|100 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? Return, forgetful Muse, and straight… …
62Sonnet 64 — Sonnet|64 When I have seen by Time s fell hand defaced The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down razed And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom… …
63Sonnet 91 — Sonnet|91 Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their bodies force, Some in their garments though new fangled ill; Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct… …
64Sonnet 68 — Sonnet|68 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 …
65Sonnet 71 — Sonnet|71 No longer mourn for me when I am dead Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it;… …
66Sonnet 92 — Sonnet|92 But do thy worst to steal thyself away, For term of life thou art assured mine, And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them… …
67Sonnet 70 — Sonnet|70 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,… …
68Sonnet 147 — Sonnet|147 My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are …
69Sonnet 126 — Sonnet|126 O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time s fickle glass, his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show st Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow st. If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou… …
70Sonnet 125 — Sonnet|125 Were t aught to me I bore the canopy, With my extern the outward honouring, Or laid great bases for eternity, Which proves more short than waste or ruining? Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour Lose all and more by paying too… …
