William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

81. Sonnets Xv 1/4/2003
82. Sonnet Xliii 5/21/2001
83. Sonnet Xcvi 5/21/2001
84. Sonnet Cxxxix 5/18/2001
85. Sonnet 7: “lo In The Orient When The Gracious Light…” 3/30/2010
86. Sonnet Cxxxiii 5/18/2001
87. Sonnet Xxxv 5/21/2001
88. Sonnets Xiii 1/4/2003
89. Sonnet Lxxiv 12/31/2002
90. Sonnets Xxxiii: Full Many A Glorious Morning Have I Seen 1/1/2004
91. Sonnet Lxxxiv 5/21/2001
92. Sonnet Xlvii 5/21/2001
93. Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/3/2003
94. Sonnet Xxvi 5/21/2001
95. Sonnet Cxxxv 5/18/2001
96. Sonnets Xi 1/4/2003
97. Sonnets Xviii 1/4/2003
98. Sonnet Xix: Devouring Time, Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws 1/3/2003
99. Sonnets Viii 1/4/2003
100. Sonnet Xcvii 5/21/2001
101. Sonnet Xxviii 5/21/2001
102. Sonnets Xix 1/4/2003
103. Sonnets Cxlvi: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth 1/1/2004
104. Sonnet Lx 5/21/2001
105. Sonnet Cxxxviii 5/18/2001
106. Sonnet Lxvi 5/21/2001
107. Sonnets Ii 1/4/2003
108. Sonnet 38: 3/30/2010
109. Sonnet Xxi 5/21/2001
110. Sonnet Ix 5/21/2001
111. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
112. Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More 3/30/2010
113. Sonnet Xxxi 5/21/2001
114. Sonnet Cxxxvi 5/18/2001
115. Sonnet Cxxxii 5/18/2001
116. Sonnet Lxxvii 12/31/2002
117. Sonnets I 1/4/2003
118. Sonnets Xvii 1/4/2003
119. Sonnet Cxxxvii 5/18/2001
120. Now The Hungry Lion Roars 3/2/2015
Best Poem of William Shakespeare

All The World's A Stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in ...

Read the full of All The World's A Stage

Sonnet Lxxvii

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory can not contain

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