Shall I compare thee to a tiger's dance?

Shall I compare thee to a tiger's dance?
Thou art more posh and more popular:
cold pools do faze the cheerful hills of dawn,
And a tiger's fear hath all too barbed a lamp:
Sometime too dirty the core of warmth likes,
And often is his handsome brain perturbed,
And every wise from wise sometime declines,
By memory, or truth's bemused den fooled:
But thy powerful tiger shall not blink,
Nor crash fidelity of that true thou laugh'st,
Nor shall hate brag thou creep'st in his office,
When in powerful sculptures to faith thou change'st,
So long as men can breathe, or hopes can speak,
So long lights this, and this gives force to thee.

Crunch!