Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love, <br />Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were: <br />Jove's golden shield did eagle sables bear, <br />Whose talons held young Ganymede above: <br /> <br />But in vert field Mars bare a golden spear, <br />Which through a bleeding heart his point did shove: <br />Each had his crest; Mars carried Venus' glove, <br />Jove in his helm the thunderbolt did rear. <br /> <br />Cupid them smiles, for on his crest there lies <br />Stella's fair hair, her face he makes his shield, <br />Where roses gules are borne in silver field. <br /> <br />Phoebus drew wide the curtains of the skies <br />To blaze these last, and sware devoutly then, <br />The first, thus match'd, were scantly gentlemen.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xiii-phoebus-was-judge/
