Shall I compare the to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperates: Rough winds, do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Some time too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou owest. Nor shall Death bray thou wander'st in his shade, when in eternal linis to time thou grow'st: So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. -William Shakespeare-
