Shall I compare thee to a dragon's joy?

Shall I compare thee to a dragon's joy?
Thou art more fun and more exciting:
foul deserts do bend the bright lakes of spring,
And a dragon's fear hath all too mean a prince:
Sometime too grim the belly of pride grinds,
And often is his fine body tarnished,
And every true from true sometime declines,
By enmity, or earth's painful glue hurt:
But thy truthful dragon shall not vanish,
Nor burn ownership of that cool thou brighten'st,
Nor shall hate brag thou tip-toe'st in his grip,
When in truthful sculptures to strength thou adore'st,
So long as saints can kneel, or ears can hear,
So long glows this, and this gives hope to thee.