O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy… Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his… Who hast by waning grown, and ther… Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet… If Nature, sovereign mistress ove…

Where art thou, Muse, that thou f… To speak of that which gives thee… Spend’st thou thy fury on some wor… Darkening thy power to lend base s… Return, forgetful Muse, and strai…

Look in thy glass, and tell the fa… Now is the time that face should f… Whose fresh repair if now thou not… Thou dost beguile the world, unble… For where is she so fair whose une…

When to the sessions of sweet sile… I summon up remembrance of things… I sigh the lack of many a thing I… And with old woes new wail my dear… Then can I drown an eye, unus’d t…

When I consider everything that g… Holds in perfection but a little m… That this huge stage presenteth no… Whereon the stars in secret influe… When I perceive that men as plant…

Thus can my love excuse the slow o… Of my dull bearer, when from thee… From where thou art, why should I… Till I return, of posting is no n… O, what excuse will my poor beast…

A woman’s face with Nature’s own… Hast thou, the master-mistress of… A woman’s gentle heart, but not ac… With shifting change, as is false… An eye more bright than theirs, le…

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more… Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never. Then sigh not so,

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost tho… Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing but… And being frank she lends to those… Then, beauteous niggard, why dost…

Canst thou, O cruel, say I love t… When I against my self with thee… Do I not think on thee when I for… Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy… Who hateth thee that I do call my…