1

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

14

To

eat

the

world's

due,

by

the

grave

and

thee.

2

When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,

13

This

were

to

be

new

made

when

thou

art

old,

14

And

see

thy

blood

warm

when

thou

feel’st

it

cold.

3

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest ...

7

Or

who

is

he

so

fond

will

be

the

tomb ...

4

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

8

So

great

a

sum

of

sums,

yet

canst

not

live?

5

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame....

X

X

6

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface

13

Be

not

self-

-will’d,

for

thou

art

much

too

fair

7

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light...

X

X

8

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

X

X

9

Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye...

X

X

10

For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any,

9

O

change

they

thought,

that

I

may

change

thy

mind!

11

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest

1

As

fast

as

thou

shalt

wane,

so

fast

thou

growest

12

When I do count the clock that tells the time,    

1

When

I

do

count

the

clock

that

tells

the

time,

14

Save

breed,

to

brave

him

when

he

takes

thee

hence.

13

O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are...

X

X

14

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;

X

X

15

When I consider every thing that grows     

13

And

all

in

war

with

Time

for

love

of

you,

16

But wherefore do not you a mightier way     

14

And

you

must

live,

drawn

by

your

own

sweet

skill.

17

Who will believe my verse in time to come,

4

Which

hides

your

life

and

shows

not

half

your

parts.

10

Be

scorn’d

like

old

men

of

less

truth

than

tongue,

14

You

should

live

twice;

in

it

and

in

my

rhyme.

18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

13

So

long

as

men

can

breathe

or

eyes

can

see,

14

So

long

lives

this

and

this

gives

life

to

thee.

19

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,

9

O,

carve

not

with

thy

hours

my

love’s

fair

brow,

20

A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted

X         X

21

So is it not with me as with that Muse

1

So

is

it

not

with

me

as

with

that

Muse

6

With

sun

and

moon,

with

earth

and

sea’s

rich

gem’s

22

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,

2

So

long

as

youth

and

thou

are

of

one

date ;

7

Which

in

thy

breast

doth

live,

as

thine

in

me :

23

As an unperfect actor on the stage

X         X

24

Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd

9

Now

see

what

good

turns

eyes

for

eyes

have

done:

10

Mine

eyes

have

drawn

thy

shape,

and

 thine

for

me...

14

They

draw

but

what

they

see,

know

not

the

heart.

25

Let those who are in favour with their stars

X         X

26

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage

13

Then

may

I

dare

to

boast

how

I

do

love thee;

14

Till

then

not

show

my

head

where

thou

mayst

prove me.

27

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,

13

Lo!

thus,

by

day

my

limbs,

by

night

my

mind,

28

How can I then return in happy plight,

13

I

tell

the

day,

to

please

them

thou

art

bright

29

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

14

That

then

I

scorn

to

change

my

state

with

kings.

30

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

4

And

with

old

woes

new

wail

my

dear

time’s

waste:

13

But

if

the

while

I

think

on

thee,

dear

friend,

31

Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,

11

Who

all

their

parts

of

me

to

thee

did

give;

14

And

thou,

all

they,

hast

all

the

all

of

me.

32

If thou survive my well-contented day,

14

Theirs

for

their

style

I’ll

read,

his

for

his

love.

33

Full many a glorious morning have I seen

X

X

34

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,

7

For

no

man

well

of

such

a

salve

can

speak

13

Ah!

but

those

tears

are

pearl

which

thy

love

sheds,

35

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:

X         X

36

Let me confess that we two must be twain,

13

But

do

not

so:

I

love

thee

in

such

sort

37

As a decrepit father takes delight

13

Look,

what

is

best,

that

best

I

wish

in

thee

38

How can my Muse want subject to invent,

9

Be

thou

the

tenth

Muse,

ten

times

more

in

worth

11

And

he

that

calls

on

thee,

let

him

bring

forth

14

The

pain

be

mine,

but

thine

shall

be

the

praise.

39

O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,

3

What

can

mine

own

praise

to

mine

own

self

bring?

4

And

what

is’t

but

mine

own

when

I

praise

thee?

40

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;

1

Take

all

my

loves,

my

love,

yea

take

them

all :

3

No

love,

my

love,

that

thou

mayst

true

love

call;

14

Kill

me

with

spites;

yet

we

must

not

be

foes.

41

Those petty wrongs that liberty commits,

X        X

42

That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,

1

That

thou

hast

her,

it

is

not

all

my

grief,

9

If

I

lose

thee,

my

loss

is

my

love’s

gain,

12

And

both

for

my

sake

lay

me

on

this

cross:

13

But

here’s

the

joy

my

friend

and

I

are

one;

43

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

1

When

most

I

wink

then

do

mine

eyes

best

see,

3

But

when

I

sleep,

in

dreams

they

look

on

thee

13

All

days

are

nights

to

see

till

I

see

thee,

14

And

nights

bright

days

when

dreams

do

show

thee

me.

44

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,

8

As

soon

as

think

the

place

where

he

might

be.

9

But

ah!

thought

kills

me

that

I

am

not

thought,

45

The other two, slight air and purging fire,

X        X

46

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war

My

heart

doth

plead

that

thou

in

him

dost

lie -

47

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,

8

And

in

his

thoughts

of

love

doth

share

a

part:

11

And

I

am

still

with

them

and

they

with

thee;

48

How careful was I, when I took my way,

10

Save

where

thou

art

not,

though

I

feel

thou

art,

49

Against that time, if ever that time come,

13

To

leave

poor

me

thou

hast

the

strength

of

laws,

50

How heavy do I journey on the way,

13

For

that

same

groan

doth

put

this

in

my

mind;

51

Thus can my love excuse the slow offence

3

From

where

thou

art

why

should

I

haste

me

hence?

52

So am I as the rich, whose blessed key

9

So

is

the

time

that

keeps

you

 as

my

chest

53

What is your substance, whereof are you made,

X        X

54

O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem

X        X

55

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

7

Nor

Mars

his

sword

nor

war’s

quick

fire

shall

burn

10

Shall

you

pace

forth;

your

praise

shall

still

find

room

56

Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said

X        X

57

Being your slave, what should I do but tend

11

But

like

 a

sad

slave,

stay

and

think

of

nought

13

So

true

a

fool

is

love

that

in

your

will,

14

Though

you

do

any

thing,

he

thinks

no

ill.

XX

58

That god forbid that made me first your slave,

X        X

59

If there be nothing new, but that which is

9

That

I

might

see

what

the

old

world

could

say

60

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

13

And

yet

to

times

in

hop

 my

verse

shall

stand

61

Is it thy will thy image should keep open

13

O,

no!

thy

love

though

much,

is

not

so

great:

62

Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye

X        X

63

Against my love shall be, as I am now,

14

And

they

shall

live,

and

he

in

them

still

green.

64

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced

14

But

weep

to

have

that

which

it

fears

to

lose.

65

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,

11

Or

what

strong

hand

can

hold

his

swift

foot

back?

14

That

in

black

ink

my

love

may

still

shine

bright.

66

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,

13

Tired

with

all

these,

from

these

I

would

be

gone

67

Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,

13

O,

him

she

stores,

to

show

what

wealth

she

had

68

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,

X         X

69

Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view

1

Those

parts

of

thee

that

the

world’s

eye

doth

view

6

But

those

same

tongues

that

give

thee

so

thine

own

70

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,

X        X

71

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

16

The

hand

that

writ

it;

for

I

love

you

so

X          X

72

O, lest the world should task you to recite

9

O,

lest

your

true

love

may

seem

false

in

this,

12

And

live

no

more

to

shame

nor

me

nor

you.

73

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

14

To

love

that

well

which

thou

must

leave

ere

long.

74

But be contented: when that fell arrest

11

The

earth

can

have

but

earth,

which

is

his

due;

13

So

when

thou

hast

lost

but

the

dregs

of

life,

75

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,

1

So

are

you

to

my

thoughts

as

food

to

life,

3

And

for

the

peace

of

you

I

hold

such

strife

14

Save

what

is

had

or

must

from

you

be

took.

76

Why is my verse so barren of new pride,

X      X

77

Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,

X         X

78

So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse

5

Thine

eyes

that

taught

the

dumb

on

high

to

sing

79

Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,

12

No

praise

to

thee

but

what

in

thee

doth

live.

13

Then

thank

him

not

for

that

which

he

doth

say

80

O, how I faint when I of you do write,

1

O,

how

I

faint

when

I

of

you

do

write,

13

14

81

Or I shall live your epitaph to make,

6

Though

I,

once

gone,

to

all

the

world

must

die

82

I grant thou wert not married to my Muse

X        X

83

I never saw that you did painting need

13

There

lives

more

life

in

one

of

 your

fair

eyes

84

Who is it that says most? which can say more

1

Who

is

it

that

says

most

which

can

say

more

7

But

he

that

writes

of

you,

if

he

can

tell

85

My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,

X        X

86

Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,

1

Was

it

the

proud

full

sail

of

his

 great

verse

87

Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,

X         X

88

When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,

X         X

89

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,

14

For

I

must

ne’er

love

him

whom

thou

dost

hate

90

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;

2

No

 while

the

world

 is

bent

my

deeds

to

cross,

9

If

thou

wilt

leave

 me

do

not

leave

me

last,

91

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,

X        X

92

But do thy worst to steal thyself away,

5

Then

need

I

not

to

fear

the

worst

of

wrongs,

6

When

in

the

least

of

them

my

life

hath

end.

14

Thou

may’st

be

false

and

yet

I

know

it

not.

93

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,

X         X

94

They that have power to hurt and will do none,

2

That

do

not

do

the

thing

they

most

do

show,

95

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame

12

And

all

things

turn

to

fait

that

eyes

can

see!

96

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; 

3

Both

grace

and

faults

are

loved

of

more

and

less ;!

12

If

thou

wouldst

use

the

strength

of

all

thy

state

13

But

do

not

so;

I

love

thee

in

such

sort

97

How like a winter hath my absence been

13

Or,

if

they

sing,

‘tis

with

so

dull

a

cheer

98

From you have I been absent in the spring,

5

Yet

nor

the

lays

of

birds

nor

the

sweet

smell

8

Or

from

their

proud

lap

pluck

them

where

they

grew;

99

The forward violet thus did I chide:

11

But,

for

his

theft,

in

pride

of

all

his

growth

100

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long

2

To

speak

of

that

which

gives

thee

all

thy

might

101

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends

14

To

make

him

seem

long

hence

as

he

shows

now.

102

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;

5

Our

love

was

new

and

then

but

in

the

spring

6

When

I

was

wont

to

greet

it

with

my

lays,

103

Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,

5

O,

blame

mw

not,

if

I

can

no

more

write!

13

And

more,

much

more,

than

in

my

verse

can

sit

14

Your

own

glass

shows

you

when