SONNET

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Awai

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Awai

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

Awai

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Awai

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

Awai

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

Awai

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

Awai

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

Awai

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Awai

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Awai

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

Awai

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

Awai

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

Awai

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Awai