XVIII
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 growest:
So long as
men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare