Timeline speechwriter

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 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. This is a beautiful poem. The poet describes the beauty of his beloved. He also writes about his love for her. His description is real and not imaginary or romantic. The eyes of his beloved are not as bright as the sun. Her lips are not as red as coral (a stone-like thing found in the sea). Her breasts are not as white as snow. They are of grey brown color. Her black hair is stiff...