Though to convince thee, that the friend did feel A kind concern for thy ill-fated care,
I would have sooth'd the flame I could not heal; Giv'n thee the world, though I withheld the fair.
ENEATH a myrtle's verdant shade
As Cloe half asleep was laid,
Cupid perch'd lightly on her breast,
And in that heav'n desir'd to rest :
Over her paps his wings he spread:
Between he found a downy bed,
And nestled in his little head.
Still lay the god: the nymph surpris'd,
Yet mistress of herself, devis'd
How she the vagrant might enthral,
And captive him who captives all.
Her bodice half-way she unlac'd;
About his arms she slily cast'
The silken bond, and held him fast.
The god awak'd; and thrice in vain
He strove to break the cruel chain;
And thrice in vain he shook his wing,
Incumber'd in the silken string.
Flutt'ring the god, and weeping said,
Pity poor Cupid, generous maid,
Who happen'd, being blind, to stray,
And on thy bosom lost his way;
Who stray'd, alas! but knew too well,
He never there must hope to dwell:
Set an unhappy pris'ner free,
Who ne'er intended harm to thee.
To me pertains not, she replies,
To know or care where Cupid flies;
What are his haunts, or which his
Where he would dwell, or whither stray:
Yet will I never set thee free:
For harm was meant, and harm to me.
Vain fears that vex thy virgin heart!
I'll give thee up my bow and dart;
Untangle but this cruel chain,
And freely let me fly again.
Agreed: secure my virgin heart:
Instant give up thy bow and dart:
The chain I'll in return untie;
And freely thou again shalt fly.
Thus she the captive did deliver;
The captive thus gave up his quiver.
The god disarm'd, e'er since that day
Passes his life in harmless play:
Flies round, or sits upon her breast,
A little, fluttering, idle guest.
E'er since that day the beauteous maid
Governs the world in Cupid's stead;
Directs his arrow as she wills;
Gives grief, or pleasure; spares, or kills.
EHIND her neck her comely tresses tied,
Her ivory quiver graceful by her side,
A-hunting Cloe went: she lost her way, And through the woods uncertain chanc'd to stray. Apollo passing by beheld the maid;
And, Sister dear, bright Cynthia, turn, he said:
The hunted hind lies close in yonder brake.
Loud Cupid laugh'd, to see the god's mistake;
And laughing cried, Learn better, great divine,
To know thy kindred, and to honour mine.
Rightly advis'd, far hence thy sister seek,
Or on Meander's bank, or Latmus' peak.
But in this nymph, my friend, my sister know:
She draws my arrows, and she bends my bow:
Fair Thames she haunts, and every neighb'ring
grove,
Sacred to soft recess, and gentle love.
Go, with thy Cynthia, hurl the pointed spear
At the rough boar, or chase the flying deer:.
I and my Cloe take nobler aim:
At human hearts we fling, nor ever miss the game.
N Heaven, one holiday, you read
In wise Anacreon, Ganymede
Drew heedless Cupid in, to throw
A main, to pass an hour, or so.
The little Trojan, by the way,
By Hermes taught, play'd all the play.
The god unhappily engag'd,
By nature rash, by play enrag'd,
Complain'd, and sigh'd, and cried, and fretted;
Lost every earthly thing he betted :
In ready money, all the store
Pick'd up long since from Danaë's shower;
A snuff-box, set with bleeding hearts,
Rubies, all pierc'd with diamond darts;
His nine-pins made of myrtle wood,
(The tree in Ida's forest stood);
His bowl pure gold, the very same
Which Paris gave the Cyprian dame;
Two table-books in shagreen covers;
Fill'd with good verse from real lovers;
Merchandise rare! a billet doux,
Its matter passionate, yet true;
Heaps of hair rings, and cipher'd seals;
Rich trifles; serious bagatelles.
What sad disorders play begets!
Desperate and mad, at length he sets
Those darts, whose points make gods adore
FIND her neck her comely tresses
Berryer graceful by her side,
A-hunting Cloe went: she lost her way,
And through the woods certain chane'd to stray.
od sing by bebeld the maid;
Ant Suster dear. bright Cynthia, turn, he said: The used bond Ses close in yonder brake. Lone Crqué Mart to see the god's mistake; kat laging tried. Learn better, great divine, :thy odred, and to honour mine. Early add far bence thy sister seek,
Meander's bank, or Latmus peak.
Be in this symph, my friend, my sister know :
She draws my arrows, and she bends my bow:
Fair Thames she haunts, and every neighb'ring
Sacred to soft recess, and gentle love.
Go, with thy Cynthia, hurl the pointed spear
At the rough boar, or chase the flying deer:
I and my Cloe take nobler aim:
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