Sonnet 130
of William Shakespeare
of 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
any
she
belied
with
false
compare.