XVWhen I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment， That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars i...
XVIBut wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant， Time？ And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessed than my...
XVIIWho will believe my verse in time to come， If it were fill'd with your most high deserts？ Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hi...
XVIII Shall I compare thee to a summer's day？ Thou art more lovely and more temperate： Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer...
XIX Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood； Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's ja...
XX A woman's face with nature's own hand painted, Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion； A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted...
XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with ...
XXII My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date； But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I dea...
XXIII As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put beside his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength...
XXIV Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd, Thy beauty's form in table of my heart； My body is the frame wherein 'tis held...