
| 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 owest; | 
| Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st 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. -Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare | 
 

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