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William Shakespeare - Sonnet 34: “Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day…”
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Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
  And make me travel forth without my cloak,
  To let base clouds o`ertake me in my way,
  Hiding thy brav`ry in their rotten smoke?
  `Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
  To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
  For no man well of such a salve can speak,
  That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
  Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief,
  Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss,
  Th` offender`s sorrow lends but weak relief
  To him that bears the strong offence`s cross.  
    Ah but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
    And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.
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