Shakespeare's Sonett No 19
Shall I compare you to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more comparate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer's lease hath all too short a day.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
Nor loose possession of thar fair thou owe'st.
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade.
When in eternal lines to times thou growe'st.
So long as man can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this, and this brings life to thee.