Sonnet-William Shakespeare
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 eve 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 etenal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
