Shall I compare thee to a summer's day
Thou art more lovely and more temperate
Rough winds do shake the darlings buds of May
And summer's lease hath all to short a date
Sometime to hot the eye of heaven shines
And often is his gold complexion; dimm'd
And every fair from fair sometime declines
By chance or natures changing course; untrimm'd
But thy eternal summer shall not fate
nor loose 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 breath or eyes can see
So long lives this
And this gives life to thee
~William Shakespeare
