A Winter's Night
Shall
I compare thee to a Winter's night?
Thou
art more starless and more frigerate.
Rough
winds of thy passage sputter the light,
And
thy presence hath none too short a date:
No
matter what thy tongue might defame,
Or
what thy caviling eye might fillet,
The
moonless sky consumest the candle flame,
Loath
to risk the warming strength of new day:
But
thy eternal Winter shall never fade,
Nor
melt in the presence of heaven's grace,
And
albeit Death comes to draw thee to his shade,
Still
thy hidden heat shall never surface.
Even
after thy dark mountain crumbles to sea,
So
long lasts chill, no love will come to thee.
The inverse of Shakespeare's Sonnet #18, written with Snape in mind.