Tuesday Poem: “Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer’s Day?” 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 some-time 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 wandr’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to...