sonnet xviii

Bryan Ferry

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.