Shakespeare Rewritten

When I am to say how you are like a long warm day
You are to me more fine and hold more warmth
Hot air blows to shake the growth of spring
I see the end of warm days much too soon
Oft the sun too hot to me seems
And oft the shade blocks out the light
Much beaut' oft from beaut' dims
'Tis luck or fate
With you I shall not lose
The long bright day
Nor lose thy fair look
Nor will I lose you to death
When I write of you I grant you long life
As long as men live and sight is had
So long my lines breathe life to you