O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear-
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. . .
She is the love that flows in the breeze,
When I see her, in my tracks I must freeze.
When she has that look in her eye,
There is a beauty that I cannot deny.
She walks with the grace of a flying bird,
With a glance, she could stop a stampeding herd.
Off the top of my head, and from the bottom of my heart...I think you're cooler than aliens that can do back flips ! enough said.