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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
Coral is far more red than her lips' red
If snow be white, why then her brests 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 misstress 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.

THe meaning of the poem is that even though your arnt perfect, you dont have to be for me to love you.