Shall I compare thee to all the seasons?
To the flare of autumn, to kiss of spring
I will give thee the three great, sole reasons
Why shan’t I compare thee to anything
Thine heart is too warm to winter’s compare
Thy skin is pale unlike summer’s skin, bright
Thine hair is black unlike the autumn flare
Thine imperial air much for spring’s light
    Thy peace and grace too light for winter’s storm
    Though thou art faint and dark, thou art most warm

Thou art too cool for summer’s blazing clime
Too hot for cold winter’s dun atmosphere
Thine locks, most fair never wither in time
Like bright autumn when winter does appear
Thy voice whene’er you speak to me is soft
Unlike most sharp the winds by winter’s sway
Unlike the hum of heat o’er skies aloft
Within melting clime of each summer day
    Thy bright and fair beauty, bright glimmering
    Ne’er wilts away like do the tides of spring

Thou art too heavy in mind and in wit
To be compared to the soft breeze in spring
And what is good in bright autumn when it
Lies beneath winter’s cold breath, withering
And of what good is there to see in gray
Of snows and ice that dance like sprites about
And of what good is there to see or say
Of all seasons who come and pass in, out
    Thou art all in all for truest respect
    In thine own way, in truest sense, perfect