Wednesday, August 25, 2010

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.

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