Love
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Shall I Compare
Thee
to a Summer's Day?
William Shakespeare 1564-1616
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:
Sometimes
too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often
is his gold complexion dimm'd:
And every
fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance,
or nature's changing course untrimm'd:
Buy they
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.
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