William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Poems

81. Sonnet Lxx 12/31/2002
82. Sonnet Lxix 5/21/2001
83. Sonnets Xviii 1/4/2003
84. Sonnet Xix: Devouring Time, Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws 1/3/2003
85. Sonnet Xcvii 5/21/2001
86. Sonnet Xxviii 5/21/2001
87. Sonnets Xix 1/4/2003
88. Sonnets Xvi 1/4/2003
89. Sonnet Lx 5/21/2001
90. Sonnet Cxxxviii 5/18/2001
91. William Shakespeare Epitaph 10/20/2015
92. Sonnets Xxxiii: Full Many A Glorious Morning Have I Seen 1/1/2004
93. Sonnet 38: 3/30/2010
94. Sonnet Lv 5/21/2001
95. Sonnet Xlvii 5/21/2001
96. Sonnet Lxxxiv 5/21/2001
97. Sonnet Xxi 5/21/2001
98. Sonnet Xliv 5/21/2001
99. Sonnet Xxxi 5/21/2001
100. Sonnet Cxxxvi 5/18/2001
101. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
102. Sonnet Cxxxv 5/18/2001
103. Sonnet Cxxxii 5/18/2001
104. Sonnet Lxxvii 12/31/2002
105. Sonnet Xliii 5/21/2001
106. Sonnets Xvii 1/4/2003
107. Sonnets Viii 1/4/2003
108. Sonnet Xvii 5/21/2001
109. Sonnet Cxxxix 5/18/2001
110. Sonnets Cxlvi: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth 1/1/2004
111. Sonnets Ii 1/4/2003
112. Sonnet Cxxxvii 5/18/2001
113. Sonnet 70:That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect… 3/30/2010
114. Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More 3/30/2010
115. Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame 1/3/2003
116. Sonnet Xxxviii: How Can My Muse Want Subject To Invent 1/3/2003
117. The Passionate Pilgrim 3/29/2010
118. Sonnet Xxvii 5/21/2001
119. Sonnet Vii 5/21/2001
120. Sonnet Iv: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend 1/3/2003
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 Li

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;

[Report Error]