Sonnet VII / Hark you that list versuri

Versuri Thomas Watson – Sonnet VII / Hark you that list lyrics

Hark you that list to hear what saint I serve:
Her yellow locks exceed the beaten gold;
Her sparkling eyes in heav’n a place deserve;
Her forehead high and fair of comely mold;

Her words are music all of silver sound;
Her wit so sharp as like can scarce be found;

Each eyebrow hangs like Iris in the skies;
Her Eagle’s nose is straight of stately frame;
On either cheek a Rose and Lily lies;
Her breath is sweet perfume, or holy flame;

Her lips more red than any Coral stone;
Her neck more white than aged Swans that moan;

Her breast transparent is, like Crystal rock;
Her fingers long, fit for Apollo’s Lute;
Her slipper such as Momus dare not mock;
Her virtues all so great as make me mute:

What other parts she hath I need not say,
Whose face alone is cause of my decay.