Sonnet #32

If thou survive my well-contented day,
When th@ churl death my bones wiv dust shl cover
& shalt by 4tune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased luvr:
Compare them wiv d bett'ring of d time,
& though they b outstripped by every pen,
Reserve them 4 my luv, nt 4 thr rhyme,
Exceeded by d height of happier men.
O then vouchsafe me bt this loving thought,
'Had my friendz Muse grown wiv this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his luv had brought
2 march in ranks of better equipage:
bt since he died & poets better prove,
thrs 4 thr style I'll read, his 4 his luv'.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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