Shakespear

　　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;