William Shakespeare. 1564–1616

Sonnet CXXX.

“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”

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,    5
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:   10
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.