Sonnet 1

Shall I compare you to a morning dew? You are more gentle and more delicate. The dawn's first light can fade away too soon, And morning mist is gone by noon's bright state. Sometimes the sun will rise with blinding glare, And often clouds obscure its golden hue; Yet every dawn brings beauty fresh and rare, Though fleeting as the moments we pursue. But your soft grace shall never dissipate, Nor lose the charm that you so freely share; Nor shall the passage of relentless fate Erase the tender love that you declare: So long as hearts can feel or minds recall, So long lives this, and this preserves it all.