William Shakespeare 's Sonnet 18

Sonnet 18

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 owest; 

Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade, 

When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 

   So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, 

   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.