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Shall I compare thee to a wooden home?
Thou art more sturdy and more sound
Rough winds don’t even shake your dome
And summer’s heat doth not confound
Sometimes too hot for standard construction
And often is this old wood blamed
And every wood would rot destruction
By chance, or nature’s course untamed
But thy eternal block shall not fade
Nor lose thy strength to mold or fungus
Nor shall one spray cans of Raid
When inside - spoils the air among us
So long as masons work and build with mortar
So long lives good building: in proper order.
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