What is the rhyme pattern of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 130?

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.

Question

Gemma Collins

English

15 June, 16:41

What is the rhyme pattern of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 130?

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.

+1

Answers (1)

Know the Answer?

Stephen Richmond · Answer 1

ABAB CDCD EFEF GG

Explanation:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; A

Coral is far more red than her lips' red; B

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; A

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. B

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, C

But no such roses see I in her cheeks; D

And in some perfumes is there more delight C

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. D

I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowE

That music hath a far more pleasing sound; F

I grant I never saw a goddess go; E

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:F

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rareG

As any she belied with false compare. G