Behold! three sister-wonders, in whom met, <br />Distinct and chast, the splendrous counterfeit <br />Of Juno, Venus and the warlike Maid, <br />Each in their three divinities array'd; <br />The majesty and state of Heav'ns great Queen, <br />And when she treats the gods, her noble meen; <br />The sweet victorious beauties and desires <br />O' th' sea-born princess, empresse too of fires; <br />The sacred arts and glorious lawrels torn <br />From the fair brow o' th' goddesse father-born; <br />All these were quarter'd in each snowy coat, <br />With canton'd honours of their own, to boot. <br />Paris, by fate new-wak'd from his dead cell, <br />Is charg'd to give his doom impossible. <br />He views in each the brav'ry of all Ide; <br />Whilst one, as once three, doth his soul divide. <br />Then sighs so equally they're glorious all: <br />WHAT PITY THE WHOLE WORLD IS BUT ONE BALL!<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paris-s-second-judgement-upon-the-three-daughter-2/
