Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
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ReplyDeleteI love poetry of all kinds. Beautiful sonnet. :-)
ReplyDeleteAnna from Shout with Emaginette
Alan Rickman can say anything with such richness and meaning. I love this, and I love the poem.
ReplyDeleteAlan Rickman can read ANYTHING and make it sound wonderful, but this was excellent.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely read--thanks for sharing :)
ReplyDeleteMy favourite sonnet!
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful, though I have to admit I would have listened if Alan Rickman were reading his grocery list.
ReplyDelete