Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

Sonnet Xcviii

From you have I been absent in the spring,When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trimHath put a spirit of youth in every thing,That heavy Saturn..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xlvi

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal warHow to divide the conquest of thy sight;Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,My heart mine eye the..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame

Those hours, that with gentle work did frameThe lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,Will play the tyrants to the very sameAnd that unfair which..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxxv

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,And loathsome..

© William Shakespeare

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..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Lvii

Being your slave, what should I do but tendUpon the hours and times of your desire?I have no precious time at all to spend,Nor services to do, till..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxviii

How can I then return in happy plight,That am debarr'd the benefit of rest?When day's oppression is not eased by night,But day by night, and night by..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Lxxix

Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,But now my gracious numbers are decay'dAnd my sick Muse doth give..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Lx

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,So do our minutes hasten to their end;Each changing place with that which goes before,In sequent..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxxiii

Full many a glorious morning have I seenFlatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,Kissing with golden face the meadows green,Gilding pale streams..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxxix

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?And what is 't but..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xlix

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,Call'd to that audit by..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnets Ii

WHEN, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,I all alone beweep my outcast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,And look upon..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xcix

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 prideWhich on..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet 38:

How can my muse want subject to invent,While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verseThine own sweet argument, too excellentFor every vulgar..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxi

So is it not with me as with that MuseStirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,Who heaven itself for ornament doth useAnd every fair with his fair..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnets Iii

WHEN to the Sessions of sweet silent thoughtI summon up remembrance of things past,I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,And with old woes new..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Ix

Is it for fear to wet a widow's eyeThat thou consumest thyself in single life?Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die.The world will wail thee, like a..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnets Xi

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,Unmoved, cold..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Cxxxvi

If thy soul cheque thee that I come so near,Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will,'And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;Thus far for..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xxxi

Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,Which I by lacking have supposed dead,And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,And all those friends..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xx

A woman's face with Nature's own hand paintedHast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;A woman's gentle heart, but not acquaintedWith shifting..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More

Who is it that says most, which can say more,Than this rich praise, that you alone, are you,In whose confine immured is the storeWhich should example..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnets To The Sundry Notes Of Music

I.IT was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,That liked of her master as well as well might be,Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st..

© William Shakespeare

Sonnet Cxxxii

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,Have put on black and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty..

© William Shakespeare