Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130

I was just looking through random videos in YouTube when I stumbled upon this wonderful, wonderful little video. Alan Rickman… wait for it… reading Shakespeare! I mean, his voice is heavenly enough, but to hear it say Sonnet 130 in particular?

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

Okay, so my experience with this sonnet is — well, I didn’t know the name of the sonnet, let’s just say. I’ve only heard it once, and that was during that Comic Relief thing with David Tennant and Catherine Tate. Even then, Tate speaks it so fast I just focus on her voice than the words.

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, 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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