Shall I compare thee to a summers 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 someetime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd: But thy eternal summer shall not fade Not shall Death brag thou time thou grow'st; So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. Sonnet XVIII
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