Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)

Author: William Shakespeare

Editors: Hardy M. Cook, Ian Lancashire

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The Sonnets (Modern)
- Work
- Poem
  1. Dedication
  2. 1 — 3
  3. 4 — 6
  4. 7 — 9
  5. 10 — 12
  6. 13 — 15
  7. 16 — 18
  8. 19 — 21
  9. 22 — 24
  10. 25 — 27
  11. 28 — 30
  12. 31 — 33
  13. 34 — 36
  14. 37 — 39
  15. 40 — 42
  16. 43 — 45
  17. 46 — 48
  18. 49 — 51
  19. 52 — 54
  20. 55 — 57
  21. 58 — 60
  22. 61 — 63
  23. 64 — 66
  24. 67 — 69
  25. 70 — 72
  26. 73 — 75
  27. 76 — 78
  28. 79 — 81
  29. 82 — 84
  30. 85 — 87
  31. 88 — 90
  32. 91 — 93
  33. 94 — 96
  34. 97 — 99
  35. 100 — 102
  36. 103 — 105
  37. 106 — 108
  38. 109 — 111
  39. 112 — 114
  40. 115 — 117
  41. 118 — 120
  42. 121 — 123
  43. 124 — 126
  44. 127 — 129
  45. 130 — 132
  46. 133 — 135
  47. 136 — 138
  48. 139 — 141
  49. 142 — 144
  50. 145 — 147
  51. 148 — 150
  52. 151 — 153
  53. 154
Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)
- Work
- Poem
  1. Titlepage
  2. Dedication
  3. 1 — 3
  4. 4 — 6
  5. 7 — 9
  6. 10 — 12
  7. 13 — 15
  8. 16 — 18
  9. 19 — 21
  10. 22 — 24
  11. 25 — 27
  12. 28 — 30
  13. 31 — 33
  14. 34 — 36
  15. 37 — 39
  16. 40 — 42
  17. 43 — 45
  18. 46 — 48
  19. 49 — 51
  20. 52 — 54
  21. 55 — 57
  22. 58 — 60
  23. 61 — 63
  24. 64 — 66
  25. 67 — 69
  26. 70 — 72
  27. 73 — 75
  28. 76 — 78
  29. 79 — 81
  30. 82 — 84
  31. 85 — 87
  32. 88 — 90
  33. 91 — 93
  34. 94 — 96
  35. 97 — 99
  36. 100 — 102
  37. 103 — 105
  38. 106 — 108
  39. 109 — 111
  40. 112 — 114
  41. 115 — 117
  42. 118 — 120
  43. 121 — 123
  44. 124 — 126
  45. 127 — 129
  46. 130 — 132
  47. 133 — 135
  48. 136 — 138
  49. 139 — 141
  50. 142 — 144
  51. 145 — 147
  52. 148 — 150
  53. 151 — 153
  54. 154
- Page
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. 63
  64. 64
  65. 65
  66. 66
  67. 67
  68. 68
  69. 69

4503I
¶Thy bosome is indeared with all hearts, 
¶Which I by lacking haue supposed dead, 
¶And there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts, 
¶And all those friends which I thought buried. 
455How many a holy and obsequious teare 
¶Hath deare religious loue stolne from mine eye, 
¶As interest of the dead,_which now appeare, 
¶But things remou'd that hidden in there lie. 
¶Thou art the graue where buried loue doth liue, 
460Hung with the tropheis of my louers gon, 
¶Who all their parts of me to thee did giue, 
¶That due of many,_now is thine alone. 
¶_Their images I lou'd, I view in thee, 
¶And thou(all they)hast all the all of me. 

46532
¶IF thou suruiue my well contented daie, 
¶When that churle death my bones with dust shall couer 
¶And shalt by fortune once more re-suruay: 
¶These poore rude lines of thy deceased Louer: 
470Compare them with the bett'ring of the time, 
¶And though they be out-stript by euery pen, 
¶Reserue them for my loue,_not for their rime, 
¶Exceeded by the hight of happier men. 
¶Oh then voutsafe me but this louing thought, 
475Had my friends Muse growne with this growing age, 
¶A dearer birth then this his loue had brought 
¶To march in ranckes of better equipage: 
¶_But since he died and Poets better proue, 
¶Theirs for their stile ile read,_his for his loue. 

48033
¶FVll many a glorious morning haue I seene, 
¶Flatter the mountaine tops with soueraine eie, 
¶Kissing with golden face the meddowes greene; 
¶Guilding pale streames with heauenly alcumy: 
485Anon permit the basest cloudes to ride, 
¶With ougly rack on his celestiall face, 
¶And from the for-lorne world his visage hide 
¶Stealing vnseene to west with this disgrace: 
¶Euen so my Sunne one early morne did shine, 
490With all triumphant splendor on my brow, 
¶But out alack,_he was but one houre mine, 
¶The region cloude hath mask'd him from me now. 
¶_Yet him for this,_my loue no whit disdaineth, 
¶_Suns of the world may staine,_whē heauens sun stainteh. 

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Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)

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Shake-speares Sonnets (Quarto 1, 1609)