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And now for Shakespeare completely different


Lion Rampant
Shall I compare thee in a different way?
Thou art more lovely than a prostitute.
Rough hands do shake like darling buds of May,
And every one is all too short a date.
Something too hot the eye toward heaven spies,
And often are his bold expressions dim;
And heroes from their rung sometimes decline
By chance encounter with a bit o' pram;
But thy internal compass shall not wave,
Nor lose the moral purity thou own'st;
Nor shall Time brag thou cower'st at his shade,
When in eternal grace o'er time thou grow'st:
So long as I can breathe or I can see,
So long lives this, and thou giv'st life to me.
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