Sonnets XVIII: 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 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.
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