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William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Hark! Hark! the Lark

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chalic’d flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise:
Arise, arise!

#English #XVICentury #XVIICentury

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Autres oeuvres par William Shakespeare...
Sonnet XXIV: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled

Mine eye hath played the painter a… Thy beauty’s form in table of my h… My body is the frame wherein ’tis… And perspective it is best painter… For through the painter must you s…
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Sonnet LXVI: Tired With All These, for Restful Death I Cry

Tired with all these, for restful… As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jolli… And purest faith unhappily forswor… And gilded honour shamefully mispl…
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Sonnet IV: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

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…
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Sonnet XIV

Not from the stars do I my judgme… And yet methinks I have astronomy… But not to tell of good or evil lu… Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons… Nor can I fortune to brief minute…
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Sonnet XXII: My glass shall not persuade me I am old

My glass shall not persuade me I… So long as youth and thou are of o… But when in thee Time’s furrows I… Then look I death my days should… For all that beauty that doth cove…
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Sonnet CVIII: What’s in the Brain That Ink May Character

What’s in the brain that ink may c… Which hath not figured to thee my… What’s new to speak, what now to r… That may express my love, or thy d… Nothing, sweet boy, but yet, like…
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Sonnets III

WHEN to the Sessions of sweet si… 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, unused t…
Sonnet XXI: So is it not with me as with that muse

So is it not with me as with that… Stirred by a painted beauty to his… Who heaven it self for ornament do… And every fair with his fair doth… Making a couplement of proud compa…
Sonnet LXXXIII: I never saw that you did painting need

I never saw that you did painting… And therefore to your fair no pain… I found, or thought I found, you… The barren tender of a poet’s debt… And therefore have I slept in you…
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Portrait of a Venetian Woman, by Albrecht Dürer
Sonnet II: When forty winters shall beseige thy brow

When forty winters shall beseige t… And dig deep trenches in thy beaut… Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed… Will be a tatter’d weed, of small… Then being ask’d where all thy bea…
Sonnet XI: as Fast as Thou Shalt Wane, So Fast Thou Grow’st

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fas… In one of thine, from that which t… And that fresh blood which youngly… Thou mayst call thine when thou fr… Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and i…
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Sonnet XLVIII: How Careful Was I, When I Took my Way

How careful was I, when I took my… Each trifle under truest bars to t… That to my use it might unusèd sta… From hands of falsehood, in sure w… But thou, to whom my jewels trifle…
Sonnet XL: Take All my Loves, my Love, Yea, Take Them All

Take all my loves, my love, yea, t… What hast thou then more than thou… No love, my love, that thou mayst… All mine was thine, before thou ha… Then if for my love, thou my love…
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Under the Greenwood Tree

Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hit…
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Orpheus With His Lute Made Trees

Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers



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