SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO ANN SUMMERS, DEAR?
Shall I compare thee to Ann Summers, dear?
Thou art more lovely and less desperate:
Rough hands do shake the Jack Rabbits of May,
Ann Summers' lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And oft' is the gold batteries dimm'd;
And every hair from hair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose vibration of that pair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal sighs to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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