O, how I faint when I of you do write, <br /> Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, <br /> And in the praise thereof spends all his might, <br /> To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame! <br /> But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, <br /> The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, <br /> My saucy bark inferior far to his <br /> On your broad main doth wilfully appear. <br /> Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat, <br /> Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride; <br /> Or being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat, <br /> He of tall building and of goodly pride: <br /> Then if he thrive and I be cast away, <br /> The worst was this; my love was my decay.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lxxx/
