Spring And Winter – William Shakespeare

WHEN daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent – William Shakespeare

Sonnet 30:
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 time’s waste: 

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, 

For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night, 

And weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe, 

And moan the expense of many a vanished sight: 

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, 

And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er 

The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan, 

Which I new pay as if not paid before. 

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, 

All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Sonnets I – William Shakespeare

SHALL I compare thee to a Summer’s day? 

Thou art more lovely and more temperate: 

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, 

And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date: 

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, 

And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; 

And every fair from fair sometime declines, 

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d: 

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade 

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; 

Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade, 

When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 

   So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, 

   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

When I Consider Everything That Grows – William Shakespeare

Sonnet Xv:

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; 

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay 

Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, 

Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay 

To change your day of youth to sullied night; 

And all in war with Time for love of you, 

As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

Sonnet Lx – William Shakespeare

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, 

So do our minutes hasten to their end; 

Each changing place with that which goes before, 

In sequent toil all forwards do contend. 

Nativity, once in the main of light, 

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d, 

Crooked elipses ‘gainst his glory fight, 

And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. 

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth 

And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow, 

Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth, 

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow: 

And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, 

Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds – William Shakespeare

Sonnet Cxvi:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove: 

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. 

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle’s compass come: 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 

If this be error and upon me proved, 

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Against My Love Shall Be As I Am Now – William Shakespeare

Sonnet 63:

Against my love shall be as I am now 

With Time’s injurious hand crushed and o’erworn, 

When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow 

With lines and wrinkles, when his youthful morn 

Hath travelled on to age’s steepy night, 

And all those beauties whereof now he’s king 

Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight, 

Stealing away the treasure of his spring: 

For such a time do I now fortify 

Against confounding age’s cruel knife, 

That he shall never cut from memory 

My sweet love’s beauty, though my lover’s life. 

His beauty shall in these black lines be seen, 

And they shall live, and he in them still green.