Sonnet 53: What Is Your Substance, Whereof Are You Made
William Shakespeare
What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since everyone hath, every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you; On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are painted new. Speak of the spring, and foison of the year; The one doth shadow of your beauty show, The other as your bounty doth appear, And you in every blessd shape we know. In all external grace you have some part, But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
Next 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 54: O, How Much More Doth Beauty Beauteous Seem
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 55: Not Marble, Nor The Gilded Monuments
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 56: Sweet Love, Renew Thy Force, Be It Not Said
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 57: Being Your Slave, What Should I Do But Tend
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 58: That God Forbid, That Made Me First Your Slave
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 59: If There Be Nothing New, But That Which Is
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 6: Then Let Not Winter's Ragged Hand Deface
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 60: Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbled Shore
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 61: Is It Thy Will Thy Image Should Keep Open
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 62: Sin Of Self-love Possesseth All Mine Eye
Previous 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 52: So Am I As The Rich Whose Blessd Key
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 51: Thus Can My Love Excuse The Slow Offence
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 50: How Heavy Do I Journey On The Way
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 5: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 49: Against That Time, If Ever That Time Come
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 48: How Careful Was I, When I Took My Way
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 47: Betwixt Mine Eye And Heart A League Is Took
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 46: Mine Eye And Heart Are At A Mortal War
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 45: The Other Two, Slight Air And Purging Fire
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 44: If The Dull Substance Of My Flesh Were Thought