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.

– William Shakespeare