SONET XVIII


SONET XVIII

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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 oft’ 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 owest;
nor shall death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
when in eternal 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.
/ poem by william shakespeare /

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