William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

Sonnet Xxxix - Poem by William Shakespeare

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 mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deservest alone.
O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
By praising him here who doth hence remain!


Comments about Sonnet Xxxix by William Shakespeare

  • (9/14/2015 8:32:00 AM)


    ...........a beautiful and timeless piece...simply superb ★ (Report) Reply

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  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 3:47:00 PM)


    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out  (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: alone, time, love, sonnet, lost



Poem Submitted: Monday, May 21, 2001



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