The Sonnets of Shakespeare

The Network Layout of each sonnet shows how Shakespeare wove together words to build a sonnet. Each circle is a word and the lines show the direction (or link) to the next word. The color of the circle is an approximate indication of the Part of Speech while the color of the button on the other hand signifies how textually similar is the selected sonnet to the others (detected by an algorithm !). Hover over a button to view additional information. The sonnet currently selected - Sonnet 107 is most textually similar to Sonnet 93 (30.51 %). Low High

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Sonnet 107

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,

Can yet the lease of my true love control,

Supposed as forfeit to a confin'd doom.


The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd,

And the sad augurs mock their own presage;

Incertainties now crown themselves assur'd,

And peace proclaims olives of endless age.


Now with the drops of this most balmy time,

My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rime,

While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:


And thou in this shalt find thy monument,

When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.