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 dimmed
And every fair from fair sometime declines
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st
Nor shall Death brag thou wandrest in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breate or eyes can see
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
(This is from memory; forgive and correct any errors you find.)