William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare – 23 April 1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet, and the "Bard of Avon". His extant works, including collaborations, consist of approximately 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth23 April 1564
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.
The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by-and-by black night doth take away...
We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun.
There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts... There’s fennel for you, and columbines; there’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither’d all when my father died. They say he made a good end,— [Sings.] “For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73
Juliet is the east and i am the sun.
I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th' estate o' th' world were now undone.
The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
The gates of monarchs Are arched so high that giants may jet through And keep their impious turbans on without Good morrow to the sun.
And send him many years of sunshine days!