Comparing Two Shakespeare Poems

Mrs. Welch
ENC 1102
Leslie Liebermann
September 2nd, 2007
Young Beauty, Mature Beauty
It is hard for me to believe that Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day and My Mistress’ Eyes are Nothing Like the Sun were both written by William Shakespeare. When I read these two poems, they stirred totally different feelings in me. With A Summer’s Day I revisited a person’s first, young love, perfect in her lover’s eyes. I found myself caught up in the enchanting images; the soothing tone; the flowing rhythm falling easily off the tongue. This love was untouched by life and reality. With My Mistress’ Eyes, at first I felt uncomfortable, even offended. My first impression was of cruelty, of intent to shock, of insult to his love. Yet, as I continued reading I realized that the bluntness was a statement of the reality of life, which love had overcome, intact and firm. I saw a poem based on long-standing love and understanding of the important things that had survived.
Both poems compare their love with nature. In Summer’s Day, nature was a poor imitation to the woman’s beauty. The woman was perfect, even tempered, fair, and lovely. ‘Thou art more lovely and more temperate” (2). She is described as unchanging, “But thy eternal summer shall not fade” (9). In My Mistress’ Eyes, the woman is a poor second to nature. She is described as having tanned skin, “If snow be white, why her breasts are dun” (3); unpleasant breath, “And in some perfumes is there more delight than the breath that from my mistress reeks”(7, 8), wiry black hair, “If hairs be wire, black wires grow on her head”(4) and someone who “treads on the ground”(12).
However, both are love poems, though one is not obviously so. Both feel that their love is unique. In A Summer’s Day, the author claims that their love will never end. He says “As long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives live to thee” (13, 14). In My Mistress’ Eyes, he is more realistic about his love. He does not claim that it will live forever, however he does acknowledge that what they have is rare. “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare” (12, 13). In the first poem the author sees the surface beauty and perfection in young love. In the second, he has no idle fancies about his love’s appearance. He understands that love that has matured through the tests and trials of life is rare indeed.