Sonnet 70
Although imperfections are in the eyes
Of the one in whom imperfections shown,
I have searched thee o'er for beautiful lies
And none of such to me have been made known.
The universe can be seen through your eyes
And roses are visible in your cheeks.
Music and voice are in one the same guise;
Listen, could I, to your speaking for weeks.
Thou art more lovely than a sunny day,
The grass and the trees give no great compare.
And angels, walking, would gaze in your way --
They'd look to be on ground whilst you in air.
All to say this: no man could be as true
As I, when to thee I speak, "I love you."