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sonnet18

by

William Shakespear

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winkds do shake the darling buds of May,
And sumer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complextion 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 possestion of the fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wonder'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to tiome thou grow'st;
So long as man can breath, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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