Sonnet+130

Sonnet 130media type="youtube" key="iyi4YmtZQ0U" height="159" width="216" align="right"
media type="file" key="Sonnet 130.m4a" width="192" height="16"

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



Why does Shakespeare put down his mistress, but in the last couplet, he calls his love rare.media type="youtube" key="kOHM7DhqTpE" height="390" width="480"