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 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 grow'st

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

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

By William Shakespeare