
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"
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 Shaksepeare
(1564 - 1616)
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