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Sonnets

How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st -

How oft, when thou, my music, music play’stAnastrophe, Antanaclasis, Epizeuxis & Metaphor
Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds
With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,Anastrophe & Synecdoche
Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,

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To me, fair friend, you never can be old - To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh,
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war - Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
How to divide the conquest of thy sight.
EpanadosMine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,
EllipsisMy heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that Conceitthou in him dost lie,
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes;
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But be contented when that fell arrest -

But be contented when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall carry me away,Ambage

My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
The very part was consecrate to thee.
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
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Let me not to the marriage of true minds -

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.Synecdoche
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover to remove.Polyptoton

O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,

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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? -

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?Rhetorical Question
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,Metaphor & Hyperbaton
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
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Two loves I have, of comfort and despair -

Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still.
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colored ill.
To win me soon to hell my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
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When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes -

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
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Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie -

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
Alike bewitchèd by the charm of looks,
But to his foe supposed he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.
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If I profane with my unworthiest hand -

Romeo
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrineMetaphor, the gentle sinOxymoron is this,
My lips, two blushing pilgrimsMetaphor, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

My lips, two blushing pilgrimsMetaphor,
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A glooming peace this morning with it brings -

A glooming peace this morning with it brings,Metaphor & Hyperbaton
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head.Personification and Alliteration
Go hence to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punishéd:Alliteration & Ellipsis
For never was a story of more woeEllipsis
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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That time of year thou mayst in me behold -

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.Metaphor

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,

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When to the sessions of sweet silent thought -

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,Alliteration

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:Alliteration
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
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Two households, both alike in dignity -

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudgeParenthesis
break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.Antanaclesis & Synecdoche
From forth the fatal loins of these two foesAlliteration & Synecdoche
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
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To me fair friend you never can be old -

To me fair friend you never can be old
For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such is your beauty still.
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But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet -

But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet.
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