Shall I compare thee to a rainy day?
Thou art more dreary and more malignant.
Rough winds do shake the thrashing waves of bays,
And Neptune’s lease hath all too long a date.
Always too damp the eye of heaven hides,
And often is thy grey complexion dimmed;
And every air to air sometime collides,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal downpour will not fade
Nor lose possession of that air thou blow'st;
Now shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in aging lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this takes life from thee.