分卷阅读68 (第2/2页)
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do
shake
the
darling
buds
of
May,
And
summer’s
lease
hath
all
too
short
a
date.
Sometime
too
hot
the
eye
of
heaven
shines,
And
often
is
his
gold
plexion
dimmed;
And
every
fair
from
fair
sometime
dees,
By
ce,
or
nature’s
ging
course,
untrimmed;
But
thy
eternal
summer
shall
not
fade,
Nor
lose
possession
of
that
fair
thou
ow’st,
