THEY that have power to hurt and will do none, <br />That do not do the thing they most do show, <br />Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, <br />Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow-- <br />They rightly do inherit heaven's graces, <br />And husband nature's riches from expense; <br />They are the Lords and owners of their faces, <br />Others, but stewards of their excellence. <br />The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, <br />Though to itself it only live and die; <br />But if that flower with base infection meet, <br />The basest weed outbraves his dignity: <br /> For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; <br /> Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnets-xi/
