B Barnes.l
May 1593 J
PAR r HE NO PHIL. ELEGIES.
409
The praise of beauty, through her veins which blue be Conducted through love's sluice, to thy face rosy, Where doves and redbreasts sit for VENUS' rights. In sign that I to Thee, will ever true be ; The rose and lilies shall adorn my posy! The violets and hyacinths shall knit With daffodil, which shall embellish it ! Such heavenly flowers, in earthly posies few be !
ELEGY II.
THAT, some time, thou saw mine endless fits; When I have somewhat of thy beauty pondered ! Thou could not be persuaded that my wits Could once retire so far from Sense asundered l Furies, themselves, have at my Passions wondered ' Yet thou, PARTHENOPHE ! well pleased, sits, Whilst in me, so thy moisture's heat hath thundeied, And thine eyes' darts, at every Colon, hits My soul with double pricks, which mine heart splits: Whose fainting breath, with sighing Commas broken, Draws on the sentence of my death, by pauses ; Ever prolonging out mine endless clauses With " Ifs " Parenthesis, yet find no token When with my grief, I should stand even or odd. My life still making preparations, Through thy love's darts, to bear the Period ; Yet stumbleth on Interrogations!