Shall I compare a season to a day,
A woman to a body like a violin?
Summer is the reason for my grin,
And on that violin I would play.

In the nave of her church I would pray.
Though summer's lease hath all too short a date,
I shall fall into winter and spring to my fate,
And while you wait I'll be frank and sing "My Way."

But just as a whole is greater than the sum
Of its parts, or 'twere a bummer, rank indeed,
So a garden outlives its fiercest weed
To blossom under my green thumb.

On her I shall gaze from head to burn.
Where summer follows I shall lead.