| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| W. Shakespeare |
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| XVIII. To His Love |
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1
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; | |
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| Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, | 5 |
| And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; | |
| And every fair from fair sometime declines, | |
| By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd. | |
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| But thy eternal summer shall not fade, | |
| Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; | 10 |
| Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade, | |
| When in eternal lines to time thou growest:— | |
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| So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, | |
| So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. | |
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