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 ow'st;

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.

      

(Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day.)



            -William Shakespear