Love poems

Sonnet 19

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 jaws,And burn the long-liv'd phoenix, in her blood;

Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,To the wide world and all her fading sweets;But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:

O! carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;Him in thy course untainted do allowFor beauty's pattern to succeeding men.

Yet, do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,

My love shall in my verse ever live young.

Sonnet 130

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 damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat 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 rareAs any she belied with false compare.