Sonnet 76: Why Is My Verse So Barren Of New Pride?
William Shakespeare
Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my name, Showing their birth and where they did proceed? O, know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument; So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent. For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told.
Next 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 77: Thy Glass Will Show Thee How Thy Beauties Wear
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 78: So Oft Have I Invoked Thee For My Muse
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 79: Whilst I Alone Did Call Upon Thy Aid
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 8: Music To Hear, Why Hear'st Thou Music Sadly?
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 80: O, How I Faint When I Of You Do Write
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 81: Or I Shall Live Your Epitaph To Make
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 82: I Grant Thou Wert Not Married To My Muse
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 83: I Never Saw That You Did Painting Need
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 84: Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 85: My Tongue-tied Muse In Manners Holds Her Still
Previous 10 Poems
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 75: So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 74: But Be Contented When That Fell Arrest
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 73: That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 72: O, Lest The World Should Task You To Recite
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 71: No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 70: That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 7: Lo, In The Orient When The Gracious Light
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 69: Those Parts Of Thee That The World's Eye Doth View
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 68: Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn
- William Shakespeare : Sonnet 67: Ah, Wherefore With Infection Should He Live