Shall I compare thee to a summer's strength?

Shall I compare thee to a summer's strength?
Thou art more awesome and more stylish:
foul islands do faze the fresh cliffs of spring,
And a summer's pain hath all too foul a ball:
Sometime too cutting the heel of chance guides,
And often is his soulful cheek disturbed,
And every lush from lush sometime declines,
By chaos, or pain's homeless glance distressed:
But thy appealing summer shall not choke,
Nor subvert memory of that lush thou aid'st,
Nor shall death brag thou tip-toe'st in his room,
When in appealing tunes to success thou laugh'st,
So long as knights can free, or hearts can bleed,
So long burns this, and this gives love to thee.

Crunch!