Sonnet XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?	1
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:	2
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,	3
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:	4
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,	5
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;	6
And every fair from fair sometime declines,	7
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;	8
But thy eternal summer shall not fade	9
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;	10
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,	11
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:	12
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,	13
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.	14