Do I compare thee to the sea.
A propostrous thought,
How I think you as precious as such.
Yet was I drowned in back of a turtle.
Ocean once flooded the fresh buds of mine.
But stunt me her crests did not.
Made salt down my lungs by monsters,
Yet hear,
For no creature did dwell whom took by his breath.
For the maiden was learned and made beauty mistaken for hell.
Then how do I compare thee to such.
You have not tried to cease me,
And never have your words pierced mine skin.
The hand held high has not once struck cruel.
Thou art a saint stood next to a devil.
