Shakespeare, «Sonnet 130»

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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 damask’d, 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.

William Shakespeare, «Sonnet 130», in Shake-speares Sonnets: Never Before Imprinted ; London : Thomas Thorpe, 1609

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