Shall I compare thee to a birthday cake?
Thou art more layered and more fattening:
Harsh winds do force thy candles fire to shake,
And birthday’s end does cause a happening:
Sometime too dull thy flours taste does shine,
And often thy icings wet and unsweet;
And every cake does have its own decline,
By cook, or ovens ever changing heat;
But thy delicious flavor shall not cease
Nor lose possession of thy candles flame;
Nor shall thy cook brag of thy masterpiece,
When in my oven a beauty you 'came:
So long as men can breathe or mouths can eat,
So long lives this and this gives taste to thee.