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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JUGGLING JERRY by GEORGE MEREDITH WINDSOR FOREST by ALEXANDER POPE LITTLE JESUS by FRANCIS THOMPSON ON KEAN'S HAMLET by WASHINGTON ALLSTON SUNSET IN THE DEVIL'S GLEN: COUNTY WICKLOW by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG ASCENSION OF A CITY FOG by FRANCES COFFIN BOAZ PALAMON AND ARCITE, OR THE KNIGHT'S TALE: BOOK 2 by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |