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Alan Rickman reading Shakespeare's Sonnet 130



Um, yum. :-)


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.

(no subject)

Date: 2007-09-25 01:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jolene17.livejournal.com
Oh, dear god, that voice! The things it does to me! I have to go lie down for a bit now...

(no subject)

Date: 2007-09-25 01:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] switch842.livejournal.com
Yeah. I felt the same way....

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