Shall I compare thee to a wizard's glow?

Shall I compare thee to a wizard's glow?
Thou art more graceful and more glowing:
filthy gulves do skew the brave rills of pain,
And a wizard's fear hath all too short a web:
Sometime too hostile the hole of rain glides,
And often is his famous face disturbed,
And every grand from grand sometime declines,
By memory, or music's bad waist strained:
But thy perfect wizard shall not erode,
Nor concede liberty of that cool thou change'st,
Nor shall death brag thou walk'st in his shadow,
When in perfect odes to success thou have fun'st,
So long as fools can dance, or smiles can heal,
So long shines this, and this gives peace to thee.