The SONNET, created in thirteenth-century Italy, was given its definitive Italian form
by Petrarch in the following century.
And in the sixteenth century the sonnets were written in many European languages. The greatest
examples of this form of poetry in English were the sonnets of the poet, playwright and actor
William Shakespeare (1564-1616).
Over 150 of those sonnets deal with love, friendship, the tyranny of time, beauty's evanescence,
death and other themes. Here you can find some of my favorite sonnets. Happy reading!
XLVL
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye th freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,
(A closet never pierc'd with crystal eyes,)
But the defendant doth that plea deny,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impanneled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart;
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eyes' moiety, and the dear heart's part:
As thus; mine eyes' due is thine outward part,
And my heart's right thine inward love of heart.
CXXX
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, ed and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, - yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go, -
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground;
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
CXXXVIII
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her, though I know she lies;
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest,
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.
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