Shakespeare’s Sonnets

Shakespeare’s Sonnets

By In Ear Entertainment LimitedArtsBooks
Download on the App Store

Shakespeare’s Sonnets episodes

  • Sonnet 074: But be contented when that fell arrest
    But be contented when that fell arrest
    Without all bail shall carry me away,
    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;
    My spirit is thine, the better part of me.
    So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
    The prey of worms, my body being dead;
    The coward conquest of a wretch’s knife,
    Too base of thee to be rememberèd.
    The worth of that is that which it contains,
    And that is this, and this with thee remains.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    22 min
  • Sonnet 073: 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 ruined 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,
    Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
    In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
    That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
    As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
    Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
    This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
    To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    21 min
  • Sonnet 072: O! lest the world should task you to recite
    O! lest the world should task you to recite
    What merit lived in me, that you should love
    After my death,–dear love, forget me quite,
    For you in me can nothing worthy prove.
    Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
    To do more for me than mine own desert,
    And hang more praise upon deceased I
    Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
    O! lest your true love may seem false in this
    That you for love speak well of me untrue,
    My name be buried where my body is,
    And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
    For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
    And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    26 min
  • Sonnet 071: No longer mourn for me when I am dead
    No longer mourn for me when I am dead
    Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
    Give warning to the world that I am fled
    From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
    Nay, if you read this line, remember not
    The hand that writ it; for I love you so
    That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
    If thinking on me then should make you woe.
    O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
    When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
    Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
    But let your love even with my life decay,
    Lest the wise world should look into your moan
    And mock you with me after I am gone.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    20 min
  • Sonnet 070: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect
    That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
    For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair;
    The ornament of beauty is suspect,
    A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.
    So thou be good, slander doth but approve
    Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time;
    For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
    And thou present’st a pure unstained prime.
    Thou hast pass’d by the ambush of young days,
    Either not assail’d or victor being charged;
    Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
    To tie up envy evermore enlarged:
    If some suspect of ill mask’d not thy show,
    Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    22 min
  • Sonnet 069: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view
    Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view
    Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
    All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
    Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
    Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d;
    But those same tongues that give thee so thine own
    In other accents do this praise confound
    By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
    They look into the beauty of thy mind,
    And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds;
    Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
    To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
    But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
    The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    20 min
  • Sonnet 068: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn
    Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
    When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
    Before the bastard signs of fair were born,
    Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
    Before the golden tresses of the dead,
    The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
    To live a second life on second head;
    Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay:
    In him those holy antique hours are seen,
    Without all ornament, itself and true,
    Making no summer of another’s green,
    Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
    And him as for a map doth Nature store,
    To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    24 min
  • Sonnet 067: Ah! wherefore with infection should he live
    Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
    And with his presence grace impiety,
    That sin by him advantage should achieve
    And lace itself with his society?
    Why should false painting imitate his cheek
    And steal dead seeing of his living hue?
    Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
    Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
    Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
    Beggar’d of blood to blush through lively veins?
    For she hath no exchequer now but his,
    And, proud of many, lives upon his gains.
    O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had
    In days long since, before these last so bad.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    26 min
  • Sonnet 066: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry
    Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
    As, to behold desert a beggar born,
    And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,
    And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
    And guilded honour shamefully misplaced,
    And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
    And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
    And strength by limping sway disabled,
    And art made tongue-tied by authority,
    And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
    And simple truth miscall’d simplicity,
    And captive good attending captain ill:
    Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
    Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    26 min
  • Sonnet 065: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
    Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
    But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,
    How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
    Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
    O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
    Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
    When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
    Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
    O fearful meditation! where, alack,
    Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?
    Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
    Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
    O, none, unless this miracle have might,
    That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
    William Shakespeare

    Presenters

    Mark Chatterley
    Thierry Heles
    20 min

About Shakespeare’s Sonnets

From the publisher's feed

The 154 sonnets that Shakespeare penned are some of the most famous in the world. But have you ever heard them all? This podcast series will take you through them one by one in easy 15 minute…