![]() | Argalvs and Parthenia | ![]() |
116
With his bright rayes had too much gaz'd vpon:
The colour of her silken Mantle was
Twixt greene and yellow, like the faded grasse;
On which were wrought enclosed fields of Corne,
Some reap'd, some bound in sheaues, & some vnshorne
Well fauour'd was her count'nance; plump & round;
Her golden Tresses dangled to the ground;
Her temples bound with full ripe eares of wheate,
Made like a Girland: frequent drops of sweat
Downe from her swarty browes did slily trickle,
And in her Sun-burnt hand she bare a sickle.
Thus vsherd, with a Bag-pipe, to the Table,
They both stood mute: Bacchus as yet vnable
To challenge language from his breathlesse tongue,
Till smiling Ceres thus began the Song.
![]() | Argalvs and Parthenia | ![]() |