Shall I compare thee to a
summer’s day?
William Shakespeare
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 dimmed;
And every fair from fair
sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s
changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall
not fade,
Nor lose possession of that
fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou
wand’rest 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.
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