Sonnet #106

When in d chronicle of wasted time,
I C descriptions of d fairest wights,
& beauty making beautiful old rhyme,
In praise of ladies dead, & luvly knights,
Then in d blazon of sweet beautyz best,
Of h&, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I C thr antique pen wud hv expressed,
Even such a beauty as U master now.
So all thr praises R bt prophecies
Of this r time, all U prefiguring,
& 4 they looked bt wiv divining eyes,
They had nt skill enough Ur worth 2 sing:
4 we which now behold these present days,
hv eyes 2 wonder, bt lack tongues 2 praise.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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