A shakesperian heart: My Mistresses eyes'


Amuse yourself if you may. I think i'm one of those Shakesperian romantics, possibly in love with the concept of being in love. The rush of emotion, a control freaks tidal wave of things and events they can't puppet. The questions, the answers, the different perspectives. One of my favourite poems of all time is definitely My mistresses eyes. I knew it word for word, and recited it to some sixth former i was smitten with in high school. Along with sending cheesey arse love letters, sharing that poem rocked me to the very core of my being. An insecure teenage girl had found a poem that spoke volumes, about one man loving his woman and celebrating her flaws.


My Mistress eyes
Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare

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.

My Mistress eyes
Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare


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