To die is to be banish'd from myself;
             And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her
             Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
             What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
             What joy isjoy if Silvia be not by?
             Unless it be to think that she is by
             And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
             Except I be by Silvia in the night,
             There is no music in the nightingale;
             Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
             There is no day for me to look upon;
             She is my essence, and I leave to be,
             If I be not by her fair influence
             Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
             I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
             Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
             But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.


             from The Two Gentlemen of Verona (III.i)

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Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

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