This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long. For thy perfect happiness is tied To the plights of nature by and by, Through storms that pass, and suns that pride, May every bloom grow white and sit beside.

For summer fades to autumn’s faithful sign, And life gives forth Armageddon’s shine, Yet, rain and tears lost not in the ferns, But linger as the heart still yearns.

— Nature’s Loss

• William Shakespeare