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 17 is most textually similar to Sonnet 106 (12.68 %).
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.