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Shakespeare
's True Love
xxX William Shakespeare
Xxx
And yet by heaven
I love to hear her speak
My mistress' eyes
are nothing like the sun
yet well I know
Coral is far more red than
her lips red
I think my love as rare
That music hath
If snow be white why
then her breasts are dun
a far more pleasing sound
If hairs be wires
black wires grow on her head
xxX Sonnet No 130 Xxx
As any she belied
I grant I never
I have seen roses
damasked red and white
saw a goddess go
But no such roses
see I in her cheeks
with false compare
My mistress when she walks
And in some perfumes
is there more delight
treads on the ground
Than in the breath
that from my mistress reeks