Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Parthenophil and ParthenopheElegy XIII. Swift Atalanta (when she lost the prize
Barnabe Barnes (1569?1609)S
By gathering golden apples in her race)
Shews how, by th’apples of thine heavenly eyes,
(Which Fortune did, before my passage place,
When for mine heart’s contentment, I did run)
How, I was hindered, and my wager lost!
When others did the wager’s worth surprise;
I viewed thine eyes! Thus eyes viewed to my cost!
Nor could I them enjoy, when all was done!
But seeming (as they did) bright as the sun,
My course I stayed to view their fiery grace;
Whose sweet possession I could not comprise.
Th’Idæan Shepherd, when the strife begun
Amongst three goddesses, as Judge decreed,
The golden apple to V
(Cause of the waste and downfall of proud Troy).
But when the Graces had a sweet regard,
How fair P
And V
One so much fairer far, as too much coy,
P
And since her beauty V
Two golden apples were to her assigned!
Which apples, the outrageous tumults breed
That are heaped up in my distressèd mind:
Whose figure, in inflamed Troy I find;
The chief occasion of mine endless woe.