Poems by Sir Philip Sidney

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Strephon.

You Gote-herd Gods, that loue the grassie mountaines,

You Nimphes that haunt the springs in pleasant vallies,

You Satyrs ioyde with free and quiet forests,

Vouchsafe your silent eares to playning musique,

Which to my woes giues still an early morning;

And drawes the dolor on till wery euening.

Klaius.

147

Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love,

Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were:

Jove's golden shield did eagle sables bear,

Whose talons held young Ganymede above:

But in vert field Mars bare a golden spear,

Which through a bleeding heart his point did shove:

Each had his crest; Mars carried Venus' glove,

Jove in his helm the thunderbolt did rear.

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