SONNET. LXXVII. Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne, a goodly of pure yvory: all spred with iuncats, fit to entertayne the greatest Prince with pompous ? Mongst which there in a siluer dish did ly twoo golden apples of vnualewd price: far passing those which Hercules came by, or those which Atalanta did entice. Exceeding sweet, yet voyd of sinfull vice, That many sought yet none could euer taste, sweet fruit of pleasure brought from paradice by Loue himselfe and in his garden plaste. Her brest that was so richly spredd, my thoughts the guests, which would thereon haue fedd.