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 owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st 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.