Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer's lease hath all too short a date

Sometime too hot the eye of Heaven shines,
And often is His gold complexion dimm'd
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd.

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in His shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

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