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4. Sonnet 18

4. Sonnet 18

 

by William Shakespeare

 

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 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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