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 damask'd, 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 daughter wanted to watch Love, Actually over Christmas vacation so that's the image of Alan Rickman I've had in my mind. This is much more attractive. I think I could spend a long time listening to him reading aloud.
ReplyDeleteI never thought to check and see if he's narrated any books. Goodness, that would be wonderful!
ReplyDeleteHe has a rugged look about him, and his voice is quite sensual.
ReplyDeleteI love the cover in the previous post, by the way!
thanks, Glynis! :)
ReplyDeleteThe write line is meaningful and real feelings.
ReplyDelete