Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,But now my gracious numbers are decayed,And my sick Muse doth give an other place.I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argumentDeserves the travail of a worthier pen,Yet what of thee thy poet doth inventHe robs thee of, and pays it thee…

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse,And found such fair assistance in my verseAs every alien pen hath got my use,And under thee their poesy disperse.Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,Have added feathers to the learnèd’s wingAnd given grace a double majesty.Yet be most…

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;These vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste.The wrinkles which thy glass will truly showOf mouthèd graves will give thee memory,Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst knowTime’s thievish progress to eternity.Look what…

Why is my verse so barren of new pride?So far from variation or quick change?Why with the time do I not glance asideTo new-found methods, and to compounds strange?Why write I still all one, ever the same,And keep invention in a noted weed,That every word doth almost tell my name,Showing their birth and where they…

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground;And for the peace of you I hold such strifeAs ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found.Now proud as an enjoyer, and anonDoubting the filching age will steal his treasure;Now counting best to be with you alone,Then bettered…

But be contented when that fell arrestWithout all bail shall carry me away;My life hath in this line some interest,Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.When thou reviewest this, thou dost reviewThe very part was consecrate to thee,The earth can have but earth, which is his due;My spirit is thine the better part of…

That time of year thou mayst in me behold,When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang.In me thou seest the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Death’s second…

O, lest the world should task you to reciteWhat merit lived in me that you should loveAfter my death, dear love, forget me quite;For you in me can nothing worthy prove—Unless you would devise some virtuous lieTo do more for me than mine own desert,And hang more praise upon deceasèd IThan niggard truth would willingly…

No longer mourn for me when I am deadThen you shall hear the surly sullen bellGive warning to the world that I am fledFrom this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:Nay, if you read this line, remember notThe hand that writ it; for I love you soThat I in your sweet thoughts would be…

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;The ornament of beauty is suspect,A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.So thou be good, slander doth but approveThy worth the greater being wooed of time,For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,And thou present’st a pure unstainèd prime.Thou…