is suspect
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air,
For canker vice the sweetest buds did love,
And thou presentest a pure unstained prime.

Sonnet 7 has:

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty.

Sonnet 18:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate,
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date--
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 60:

Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Sonnet 73:

That time of life thou mayst in me behold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

There are no better similes for the oncoming of age and death, than
the sere leaf trembling in the wind, the twilight of the setting sun,
the expiring flame.

Almost all the comparisons from Nature in his plays are original, and
rather keen and lightning-like than elaborate, often with the
terseness of proverbs;

The strawberry grows underneath the nettle.
(_Henry V._)

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
(_Henry VI._)

The waters swell before a boisterous storm.
(_Richard III._)

Sometimes they are heaped up, like Calderon's, 'making it' (true
love)

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the