Shakespeare's 18th Sonnet

[adrianfox]

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 posession for that fair thou owest;
nor death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
when in external 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.