Talk about your half (or slanted) rhymes!

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.

"Temperate" and "date"? C'mon, Bill!

And Emily! For shame:

"Hope" is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

Billy, you should know better:

What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

And then there's Amos:

He can't be expected to remember it all
When he's working on cosmic plans, way past us all!
If his thin disguise fails as a keeper of data
A researcher of tomes, whose day job is a waiter,
We still must forgive him, as trees forgive forests
Seeing all the miraculous things he's done for us!

At least he's in good company.