Sunday, July 19, 2020

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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 ow’st;


Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,


So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.



Iambic pentameter courtesy of William Shakespeare. (Sonnet 18) 

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