Sonnet 80 by William Shakespeare Tube. Duration : 1.02 Mins.
With synchronized text, interactive transcript, and closed captions. Playlist for Shakespeare's Sonnets 71 - 80: www.youtube.com Playlist for all of Shakespeare's Sonnets: www.youtube.com
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Sonnet no 80: By William Shakespeare Tube. Duration : 1.30 Mins.
Sonnet no 80: By William Shakespeare Read by: Bertram Selwyn "O! how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might, To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame. But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark, inferior far to his, On your broad main doth wilfully appear. Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride; Or, being wrack'd, I am a worthless boat, He of tall building, and of goodly pride: Then if he thrive and I be cast away, The worst was this, my love was my decay." (For Full Chronological order of William Shakespeare's sonnets, check the PLAYLIST entitled "The Sonnets of William Shakespeare")
Sir John Gielgud reads hakespeare's Sonnet 38 Sonnet 38 by William Shakespeare (1564-1616) How can my muse want subject to invent, While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse Thine own sweet argument, too excellent For every vulgar paper to rehearse? O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me Worthy perusal stand against thy sight; For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee, When thou thy self dost give invention light? Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth Than those old nine which rhymers invocate; And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers to outlive long date. If my slight muse do please these curious days, The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
Sonnet no 17: By William Shakespeare Read by: Bertram Selwyn (Bernard Shakespeare) "Who will believe my verse in time to come, If it were fill'd with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say 'This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.' So should my papers, yellow'd with their age, Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage And stretched metre of an antique song: But were some child of yours alive that time, You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme." (For Full Chronological order of William Shakespeare's sonnets, check the PLAYLIST entitled "The Sonnets of William Shakespeare")
Sonnet 21 by William Shakespeare O is it not with me as with that Muse Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse; Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare That heaven's airs in this huge rondure hems. O let me, true in love, but truly write, And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air: Let them say more that like of hearsay well; I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
Sonnet no 38: By William Shakespeare Read by: Bertram Selwyn (Bernard Shakespeare) "How can my muse want subject to invent, While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse Thine own sweet argument, too excellent For every vulgar paper to rehearse? O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me Worthy perusal stand against thy sight; For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee, When thou thy self dost give invention light? Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth Than those old nine which rhymers invocate; And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers to outlive long date. If my slight muse do please these curious days, The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise." (For Full Chronological order of William Shakespeare's sonnets, check the PLAYLIST entitled "The Sonnets of William Shakespeare")
Like Sonnet 18, there is little doubt that this was written to a young man. Similarly, there is no justification for any presumption of homoeroticism (not that there's anything wrong with that, according to Jerry Seinfeld) The notes attached to Sonnet 18 apply here, too. It might be addressed to Shakespeare's patron, William Herbert, 3rd Earl of Pembroke, who had already had a son who died at birth. I'm no historian and haven't researched this idea, so perhaps somebody who knows more about Shakespeare will set me straight. tinyurl.com He was a couple of years older than Shakespeare and it is usually accepted that the "Fair Youth" of the Sonnets was younger, so Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton is a more likely candidate. Some analysis of this sonnet here: www.shakespeares-sonnets.com A portait said to be William Herbert is shown, painted in about 1625. The picture of Shakespeare is called the Cobbe Portrait, claimed to have been painted while he was alive in about 1610. Who will believe my verse in time to come, If it were filled with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say 'This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.' So should my papers, yellowed with their age, Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, And your true rights be termed a ...
Sonnet no 21: By William Shakespeare Read by: Bertram Selwyn (Bernard Shakespeare) "So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare, That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems. O! let me, true in love, but truly write, And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air: Let them say more that like of hearsay well; I will not praise that purpose not to sell." (For Full Chronological order of William Shakespeare's sonnets, check the PLAYLIST entitled "The Sonnets of William Shakespeare")
Sonnet no 86: By William Shakespeare Read by: Bertram Selwyn "Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence cannot boast; I was not sick of any fear from thence: But when your countenance filled up his line, Then lacked I matter; that enfeebled mine." (For Full Chronological order of William Shakespeare's sonnets, check the PLAYLIST entitled "The Sonnets of William Shakespeare")
