Montague to Capulet

Does match this feeling of a dreamers dream?
Though swore I this dream never would be felt?
Or return shall I to logical theme,
And assume from there that my thoughts will melt?
But her eyes, sparkle they like glowing moon,
Both persuasive and tempting in their light,
If music never they would need be tuned.
For their glorious sound is always bright.
Her lips value more than what worth am I,
For finer than the softest silk are they.
Brave are not my lips, for before you shy.
And though it hard they choose scamper away.
But ask must I, your hand to whose hands meet?
For if no one, then may to my hand greet.