Sonnet XLI. When my sun, Cupid, took his next abiding

Barnabe Barnes (1569?–1609)

WHEN my sun, CUPID, took his next abiding

’Mongst craggy rocks and mountains, with the Goat;

Ah then, on beauty did my senses doat!

Then, had each Fair regard, my fancies guiding!

Then, more than blessed was I, if one tiding

Of female favour set mine heart afloat!

Then, to mine eyes each Maid was made a moat!

My fickle thoughts, with divers fancies sliding,

With wanton rage of lust, so me did tickle!

Mine heart, each Beauty’s captived vassal!

Nor vanquished then (as now) but with love’s prickle!

Not deeply moved (till love’s beams did discover

That lovely Nymph, PARTHENOPHE!), no lover!

Stop there, for fear! Love’s privilege doth pass all!