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Sonnet CXXX
My mistress' eyes are
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I
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.
The 1609 Quarto Version
MY Miſtres eyes are nothing like the Sunne,
Currall is farre more red,then her lips red,
If ſnow be white,why then her breſts are dun:
If haires be wiers,black wiers grow on her head:
I haue ſeene Roſes damaskt,red and white,
But no ſuch Roſes ſee I in her cheekes,
And in ſome perfumes is there more delight,
Then in the breath that from my Miſtres reekes.
I loue to heare her ſpeake,yet well I know,
That Muſicke hath a farre & more pleaſing ſound:
I graunt I neuer ſaw a goddeſſe goe,
My Miſtres when ſhee walkes treads on the groun d.
&&&And yet by heauen I thinke my loue as rare,
&&&As any ſhe beli'd with falſe compare.

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