•FOGHRAÍOCHT•AISTE•TUISCINT•ALT•LABHAIRT Aonad a Cúig Soinéad 130
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.
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