My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun Coral is far more red than her lips' red If snow be white why then breasts dun hairs wires black wires grow on head. I have seen roses damasked and But no such see in cheeks And some perfumes there delight Than breath that from my mistress reeks. love to hear speak yet well know That music hath a pleasing sound grant never saw goddess go mistress when she walks treads ground. yet by heaven think as rare As any belied with false compare.