Quatrain 1

Shall I compare you to a play

where summer fairies come to dance,

while courtly ladies sleep all day

and foolish Robin fouls his chance?

Too often plays are but a dream

where asses come a reveling,

and times are not quite what they seem.

Titania's dreams unraveling.

But you dear player to the stars

Making all sweet dreams come true,

Causing the restless heart of Mars

to twinkle as the morning dew.

Shall I compare you to a play?

Or rhyme you to a summer's day?

While shamed planets hide from view

                                     No sparkling star shall outshine you.

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