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.

-- William Shakespeare