By Edward Hightower
Date: 24 August 2000
Sonnet in My Bonnet
Shall I compare thee to an August day?
Thou art more hot and just better:
Harsh winds do rattle the boughs of late May,
And summertime has a very, very short date:
Sometime too bright the star of heaven shines,
And often is his pimply 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 man can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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