The Sonnets, all 154.
Shakespeare's sonnets read like a four-act drama: a young man urged to marry, an intense love that survives time, a rival poet, and a "dark lady" who isn't like the rest. Each sonnet here comes with a plain-English paraphrase and a short note on what it's doing.
Sequences
Procreation Sonnets Sonnets 1–17 17 sonnets
Shakespeare's opening gambit: the beautiful young man must have children to defeat time and fulfill a debt to nature. Beauty is a loan, not a possession.
Fair Youth Sonnets Sonnets 18–126 100 sonnets109 sonnets to a beautiful young man about desire, mortality, and the power of poetry to defeat time. Shakespeare's most intimate and debated sequence.
Rival Poet Sonnets Sonnets 78–86 9 sonnetsNine sonnets tracking the speaker's rivalry with another poet over the young man's favor, from competitive boasting through anxious admission of defeat.
Dark Lady Sonnets Sonnets 127–152 26 sonnetsTwenty-six sonnets addressed to a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who is neither idealized nor abandoned. Shakespeare loves her anyway—honestly, messily, without illusion.
Anacreontic Sonnets Sonnets 153–154 2 sonnetsTwo witty closing sonnets that play with myth and paradox: love-sickness has no cure, because desire itself is what makes the cure impossible.
All 154
1 From fairest creatures we desire increase, 2 When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, 3 Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest 4 Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend 5 Those hours, that with gentle work did frame 6 Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface, 7 Lo! in the orient when the gracious light 8 Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? 9 Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye, 10 For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any, 11 As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st, 12 When I do count the clock that tells the time, 13 O! that you were your self; but, love you are 14 Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck; 15 When I consider everything that grows 16 But wherefore do not you a mightier way 17 Who will believe my verse in time to come, 18 Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? 19 Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, 20 A woman’s face with nature’s own hand painted, 21 So is it not with me as with that Muse, 22 My glass shall not persuade me I am old, 23 As an unperfect actor on the stage, 24 Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d, 25 Let those who are in favour with their stars 26 Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage 27 Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, 28 How can I then return in happy plight, 29 When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes 30 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought 31 Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, 32 If thou survive my well-contented day, 33 Full many a glorious morning have I seen 34 Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day, 35 No more be griev’d at that which thou hast done: 36 Let me confess that we two must be twain, 37 As a decrepit father takes delight 38 How can my Muse want subject to invent, 39 O! how thy worth with manners may I sing, 40 Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all; 41 Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, 42 That thou hast her it is not all my grief, 43 When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, 44 If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, 45 The other two, slight air, and purging fire 46 Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, 47 Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, 48 How careful was I when I took my way, 49 Against that time, if ever that time come, 50 How heavy do I journey on the way, 51 Thus can my love excuse the slow offence 52 So am I as the rich, whose blessed key, 53 What is your substance, whereof are you made, 54 O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem 55 Not marble, nor the gilded monuments 56 Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said 57 Being your slave what should I do but tend, 58 That god forbid, that made me first your slave, 59 If there be nothing new, but that which is 60 Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, 61 Is it thy will, thy image should keep open 62 Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye 63 Against my love shall be as I am now, 64 When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d 65 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, 66 Tired with all these, for restful death I cry: 67 Ah! wherefore with infection should he live, 68 Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, 69 Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view 70 That thou art blam’d shall not be thy defect, 71 No longer mourn for me when I am dead 72 O! lest the world should task you to recite 73 That time of year thou mayst in me behold 74 But be contented: when that fell arrest 75 So are you to my thoughts as food to life, 76 Why is my verse so barren of new pride, 77 Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, 78 So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, 79 Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, 80 O how I faint when I of you do write, 81 Or I shall live your epitaph to make, 82 I grant thou wert not married to my Muse, 83 I never saw that you did painting need, 84 Who is it that says most, which can say more, 85 My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, 86 Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, 87 Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, 88 When thou shalt be dispos’d to set me light, 89 Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, 90 Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; 91 Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, 92 But do thy worst to steal thyself away, 93 So shall I live, supposing thou art true, 94 They that have power to hurt, and will do none, 95 How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame 96 Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; 97 How like a winter hath my absence been 98 From you have I been absent in the spring, 99 The forward violet thus did I chide: 100 Where art thou Muse that thou forget’st so long, 101 O truant Muse what shall be thy amends 102 My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming; 103 Alack! what poverty my Muse brings forth, 104 To me, fair friend, you never can be old, 105 Let not my love be call’d idolatry, 106 When in the chronicle of wasted time 107 Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul 108 What’s in the brain, that ink may character, 109 O! never say that I was false of heart, 110 Alas! ’tis true, I have gone here and there, 111 O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide, 112 Your love and pity doth the impression fill, 113 Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind; 114 Or whether doth my mind, being crown’d with you, 115 Those lines that I before have writ do lie, 116 Let me not to the marriage of true minds 117 Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all, 118 Like as, to make our appetite more keen, 119 What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, 120 That you were once unkind befriends me now, 121 ’Tis better to be vile than vile esteem’d, 122 Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain 123 No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: 124 If my dear love were but the child of state, 125 Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy, 126 O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power 127 In the old age black was not counted fair, 128 How oft when thou, my music, music play’st, 129 The expense of spirit in a waste of shame 130 My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; 131 Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, 132 Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me, 133 Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan 134 So, now I have confess’d that he is thine, 135 Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy ‘Will,’ 136 If thy soul check thee that I come so near, 137 Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes, 138 When my love swears that she is made of truth, 139 O! call not me to justify the wrong 140 Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press 141 In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, 142 Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, 143 Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch 144 Two loves I have of comfort and despair, 145 Those lips that Love’s own hand did make, 146 Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 147 My love is as a fever longing still, 148 O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head, 149 Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, 150 O! from what power hast thou this powerful might, 151 Love is too young to know what conscience is, 152 In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn, 153 Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep: 154 The little Love-god lying once asleep,
In the app 
Read the sonnets. Hear them too.