Shakespeare's Sonnet 80

O how I faint when I of you do write,Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,And in the praise thereof spends all his might,To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame!But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,My saucy bark, inferior far to his,On your broad main doth wilfully appear.Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;Or, being wrack’d, I am a worthless boat,He of tall building, and of goodly pride:Then if he thrive and I be cast away,The worst was this: my love was my decay.

How discouraged I feel when I write about you, knowing that a better poet uses your name and spends all his strength praising it, leaving me speechless when I try to describe your greatness! But since your worth is as wide as the ocean and supports the humblest ship as well as the grandest, my bold little boat, far inferior to his, ventures onto your broad sea. Even your slightest help will keep me afloat, while he sails over your depths that cannot be measured. Or if I am wrecked, I am only a worthless boat, while he is a tall and splendid ship. So if he prospers and I am lost, the worst I can say is this: my love caused my ruin.