Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul,which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love:if I have ranged,
Like him that travels I return again,
Just to the time,not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my strain.
Never believe,though in my nature reign'd
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be strain'd
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou,my rose; in it thou art my all.
-Shakespeare
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 heaven of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chances or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest;
So on as men can breathe oe eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee
Shakespeare
