#sonnet 94

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 94 by William Shakespeare (read by Alfred Molina)

They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:

They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Source: The Complete Shakespeare Sonnets

[pathofregeneration]

Heaven’s Graces

“They that have power to hurt, and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow; They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces, And husband nature’s riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others, but stewards of their excellence. The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself, it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds.”

— William Shakespeare, Sonnet 94

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Tuco Amalfi, Melody of Nature

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 94 by William Shakespeare (read by Sir Patrick Stewart)

They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:

They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

[p-isforpoetry]

Sonnet 94 by William Shakespeare (read by Michael Gaston)

“Michael Gaston started #readasonnet, challenging his friends and colleagues directly to share sonnets with the world. Now actors are performing sonnets (and not just by William Shakespeare) in their homes and putting them online to soothe us all in our isolation.” (via Twitter)

Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare

They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:

They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces And husband nature’s riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity:

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

[carpe--florem]

William Shakespeare - Sonnet 94

[shakespeare-sonnettos]

Sonnet XCIV

They that have pow’r to hurt and will do none,

That do not do the thing they most do show,

Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,

Unmoved, cold and to temptation slow ;

They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces

And husband nature’s riches from expense ;

They are the lords and owners of their faces,

Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer’s flow’r is to the summer sweet

Though to itself it only live and die ;

But if that flow’r with base infection meet,

The basest weed outbraves his dignity :

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds ;

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

[shakespeareweekly]

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Sonnet 94 (13 - 14)

[scraps-of-poetry]

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Sonnet 94, William Shakespeare