Sonnet 16: But Wherefore Do Not You A Mightier Way
William Shakespeare
But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time, And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessd than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker than your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repair Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen Neither in inward worth nor outward fair Can make you live your self in eyes of men. To give away your self keeps your self still, And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill.
Next 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 17: Who Will Believe My Verse In Time To Come
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 18: Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 19: Devouring Time Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 2: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 20: A Woman's Face With Nature's Own Hand Painted
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 21: So Is It Not With Me As With That Muse
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 22: My Glass Shall Not Persuade Me I Am Old
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 23: As An Unperfect Actor On The Stage
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 24: Mine Eye Hath Played The Painter And Hath Stelled
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 25: Let Those Who Are In Favour With Their Stars
Previous 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 154: The Little Love-god Lying Once Asleep
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 153: Cupid Laid By His Brand And Fell Asleep
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 152: In Loving Thee Thou Know'st I Am Forsworn
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 151: Love Is Too Young To Know What Conscience Is
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 150: O From What Power Hast Thou This Powerful Might
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 15: When I Consider Every Thing That Grows
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 149: Canst Thou, O Cruel, Say I Love Thee Not
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 148: O Me! What Eyes Hath Love Put In My Head
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 146: Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth