by: William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
      ULL many a glorious morning have I seen
      Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
      Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
      Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
      Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
      With ugly rack on his celestial face,
      And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
      Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
      Even so my sun one early morn did shine
      With all-triumphant splendor on my brow;
      But, out alack, he was but one hour mine,
      The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
      Yet him for this my love no white disdaineth;
      Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.