Shall I Cmpare Thee To A Summer’s Day?


 

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Sonnet XVIII

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. William Shakespeare (1564–1616)

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