Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.

Within the book and volume of thy brain.

Nature does require her times of preservation.

Read o'er this And after, this, and then to breakfast with What appetite you have.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me

Love that well which thou must leave ere long.