Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not loveWhich alters when it alteration finds,Or bends…
Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and thereAnd made myself a motley to the view,Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold…
How can my muse want subject to invent,While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verseThine own sweet argument, too…
When to the sessions of sweet silent thoughtI summon up remembrance of things past,I sigh the lack of many a…
When I consider everything that growsHolds in perfection but a little moment,That this huge stage presenteth nought but showsWhereon the…
Those hours, that with gentle work did frameThe lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,Will play the tyrants to the…
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spendUpon thy self thy beauty's legacy?Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,And being frank she…
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on…
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red:If snow be white, why…
Those lips that Love's own hand did makeBreath'd forth the sound that said I hateTo me that languish'd for her…