Sonnet 18 BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
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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