William Shakespeare

Sonnet CXXX: Valentine’s Day edition

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red:
If snow be white, 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
That in the break from my poor 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
And any she belied with false compare.