I Stand For Judgment: Answer: Shall I

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.