To His Love
William Shakespeare
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 fadeNor lose possession of that fair thou owest;Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest 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.