Parthenophil and Parthenophe :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sleepe Phoebus still in glaucie Thetis lappe,
Ioues eagles percing eyes be blinde:
Soft thinges whose tuch, is tickle to the minde
Giue no like tuch, all ioyes in one to wrappe.
All instrumentes, all birdes, and voyces
Make no such heauenly musicke in their kinde:
No fruites haue such sweet sappe,
No roote such ioyces,
No balme so much reioyces:
O breath, exceeding euery rich perfume!
For loue all pleasures in a kisse did lappe.
Her eyes did giue bright glaunces,
Sight is no fight, all light with that consume:
She tuch't my cheeke, at which tuch mine hart daūces,
Mine eyes, in priuie combate did præsume
Charging mine handes to charge her middle,
Whilst they threw wounding darts, & healing launces:
She kist and spoke attonce a riddle:
But such sweet meaning in darke sence
As shew'd the drift of her deare-sweet pretence,
More pleasing, then the corde of Harpe, or Lute.
On heauenly cherries then I feede,
Whose sappe deliciouser then Angels food,
Whose breath more sweet, thē gūme, herbe, flower, or bood,
O kisse which did all sence exceede!
No man can speake those ioyes, then muse be mute:
But say, for sight, smell, hearing, tast, and tuch,
In any one thing, was there euer such?