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Sonnet 98: "From you have I been absent in the spring "

From you have I been absent in the spring,

When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,

Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,

That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him,

Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell

Of different flowers in odor and in hue,

Could make me any summer's story tell,

Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.

by William Shakespeare

It Was A Lover And His Lass

It was a lover and his lass

With a hey and a ho, and a hey-nonino!

That o'er the green corn-field did pass

In the spring time, the only pretty sing time,

When birds do sing hey ding a ding:

Sweet lovers love the Spring.

Between the acres of the rye

These pretty country folks would lie:

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 129: "Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame"

Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Is lust in action; and till action, lust

Is perjur'd, murd'rous, bloody, full of blame,

Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight;

Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had,

Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait,

On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

by William Shakespeare

Fairy Land IV

Where the bee sucks, there suck I:

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly

After summer merrily:

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 8: "Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?"

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?

Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.

Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly,

Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy?

If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,

By unions married, do offend thine ear,

They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds

In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 15: "When I consider everything that grows"

When I consider everything that grows

Holds in perfection but a little moment,

That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows

Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase,

Cheered and check'd even by the selfsame sky,

Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,

And wear their brave state out of memory;

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 145: "Those lips that Love's own hand did make"

Those lips that Love's own hand did make

Breath'd forth the sound that said I hate

To me that languish'd for her sake:

But when she saw my woeful state,

Straight in her heart did mercy come.

Chiding that tongue, that ever sweet

Was used in giving gentle doom:

And taught it thus anew to greet:

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 30: "When to the sessions of sweet silent thought"

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear times' waste;

Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,

And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:

by William Shakespeare

Venus And Adonis

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo

Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

TO THE

RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.

RIGHT HONORABLE,

I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your

lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop

William Shakespeare

Sonnet 16: “But wherefore do not you a mightier way…”

But wherefore do not you a mightier way

Make war upon this bloody tyrant Time?

And fortify your self in your decay

With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?

Now stand you on the top of happy hours,

And many maiden gardens yet unset,

With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,

Much liker than your painted counterfeit:

by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 146: "Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth"

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,

[……] these rebel powers that thee array,

Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,

Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?

Why so large cost, having so short a lease,

Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?

Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,

Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?

by William Shakespeare

Fairy Land III

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,—

The wild waves whist,—

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Hark, hark!

Bow, wow,

by William Shakespeare