Lost? Who? Me? Naaah...

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lesgardenias

Sonnet 130 - Shakespeare
Read by: Alan Rickman

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.