Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art lovelier and more temperate. 
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer's lease hath and all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of Heaven shines
And often is gold complexiond dimm'd
And every fair from fair some times declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd ;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair though ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When the eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and gives life to thee.