Verse > Anthologies > Elizabethan Sonnets > Parthenophil and Parthenophe
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Seccombe and Arber, comps.  Elizabethan Sonnets.  1904.
 
Parthenophil and Parthenophe
Sonnet LXXI. Those hairs of angels’ gold, thy nature’s treasure
Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)
 
THOSE hairs of angels’ gold, thy nature’s treasure.
  (For thou, by Nature, angel-like art framed!)
Those lovely brows, broad bridges of sweet pleasure,
  Arch two clear springs of Graces gracious named;
There Graces infinite do bathe and sport!        5
  Under, on both sides, those two precious hills,
Where PHŒBE and VENUS have a several fort.
  Her couch, with snowy lilies, PHŒBE fills,
But VENUS, with red roses, hers adorneth;
  There, they, with silent tokens, do dispute        10
Whilst PHŒBE, VENUS; VENUS, PHŒBE scorneth!
  And all the Graces, judgers there sit mute
To give their verdict; till great JOVE said this,
  “DIANA’s arrows wound not, like thy kiss!”
 
 
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