Chapters 13
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1 01 - Sonnet 130 - Read by ALP 1:07
G. Pug. 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 done. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I haven't seen such 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.
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2 02 - Sonnet 130 - Read by BK 1:17
My mistress's 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.
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3 03 - Sonnet 130 - Read by DL 1:17
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 done. 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 is rare, as any shebelide with faults compare.
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4 04 - Sonnet 130 - Read by GB 1:16
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why then her breasts are done? 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.
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5 05 - Sonnet 130 - Read by GG 1:24
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why then her breasts are done. If hairs be wires, black wires grow. On her head. I have seen roses demasked 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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6 06 - Sonnet 130 - Read by IK 1:14
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why, then her breasts are done. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I've seen roses demasked, 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 is rare as any she belied with false compare.
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7 07 - Sonnet 130 - Read by KE 1:08
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why, then her breasts are done. 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.
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8 08 - Sonnet 130 - Read by LAH 1:16
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 done. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses demasked. 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 is rare as any she belied with false compare.
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9 09 - Sonnet 130 - Read by LLW 1:21
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 done. 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 be lied with false compare.
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10 10 - Sonnet 130 - Read by MK 1:30
My mistress's 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 there is 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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11 11 - Sonnet 130 - Read by NB 1:16
My mistress's 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.
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12 12 - Sonnet 130 - Read by PS 1:06
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why, then her breasts are done. 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.
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13 13 - Sonnet 130 - Read by TP 1:07
My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun. Coral is far more red than her lips red. If snow be white, why then her breasts are done? 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 cheek. 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 is rare, as any she belied with false compare.