Sonnet XI: In Ida vale three Queenes the shepheard

In Ida vale three Queenes the shepheard sawe,
Queenes of esteeme, divine, they were all three:
A sight of worth, but I a wonder shawe,
There vertues all in one alone to be.
Lycia the fayre, surpassing Venus pride,
(The matchlesse Queene commaunder of the goddes,
When drawen with doves, she in her pompe doeth ride)
Hath farre more beautie, and more grace by oddes.
Iuno Ioves wife, unmeete to make compare,
I graunt a goddesse, but not halfe so mylde:
Minerva wife, a vertue, but not rare.
Yet these are meane, if that my love but smyl'de.
She them surpasseth, when their prides are full:
As farre as they surpasse the meanest trull.