His might, and deprecate his power:

Those darts, whence all our joy and pain

:

Arise those darts-Come, seven's the main, 30 Cries Ganymede: the usual trick:

Seven, slur a six; eleven, a nick.

Ill news goes fast: 'twas quickly known,'
That simple Cupid was undone.
Swifter than lightning Venus flew :
Too late she found the thing too true.

Guess how the goddess greets her son:
Come hither, sirrah: no, begone;

And, hark

ye, is it so indeed?
A comrade you for Ganymede?
An imp as wicked, for his age,
As any earthly lady's page;
A scandal and a scourge to Troy ;
A prince's son! a black-guard boy;
A sharper, that with box and dice
Draws in young deities to vice.
All Heaven is by the ears together,
Since first that little rogue came hither:
Juno herself has had no peace:
And truly I've been favour'd less :
For Jove, as Fame reports (but Fame
Says things not fit for me to name),
Has acted ill for such a god,
And taken ways extremely odd.

And thou, unhappy child, she said.
(Her anger by her grief allay'd),
Unhappy child, who thus has lost
All the estate we e'er could boast;
Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy name despis'd, thy weakness known?

40

50

60

Nor shall thy shrine on earth be crown'd ;
Nor shall thy power in Heaven be own'd;
When thou, nor man, nor god canst wound.
Obedient Cupid kneeling cried,
Cease, dearest mother, cease to chide :
Gany's a cheat, and I'm a bubble:

Yet why this great excess of trouble?
The dice were false: the darts are gone:
Yet how are you or I undone?

The loss of these I can supply
With keener shafts from Cloe's eye:
Fear not we e'er can be disgrac'd,
While that bright magazine shall last :
Your crowded altars still shall smoke;
And man your friendly aid invoke:
Jove shall again revere your power,
And rise a swan, or fall a shower.

70

CUPID MISTAKEN.

S after noon, one summer's day,
Venus stood bathing in a river,
Cupid a-shooting went that way,
New strung his bow, new fill'd his
quiver.

With skill he chose his sharpest dart,
With all his might his bow he drew;

Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
The too well-guided arrow flew.

I faint! I die! the goddess cried;

O cruel, couldst thou find none other, To wrack thy spleen on? Parricide!

Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother.

Poor Cupid sobbing scarce could speak ;
Indeed, mamma, I did not know ye:
Alas! how easy my mistake;

I took you for your likeness,

Cloe.

10

VENUS MISTAKEN.

ZHEN Cloe's picture was to Venus shown,
Surpris'd, the goddess took it for her

own.

And what, said she, does this bold painter mean?

When was I bathing thus, and naked seen?

Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's pride: And who's blind now, mamma? the urchin cried. 'Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast: Friend Howard's genius fancied all the rest.

A SONG.

F wine and music have the power To ease the sickness of the soul; Let Phoebus every string explore; And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl. Let them their friendly aid employ, To make my Cloe's absence light; And seek for pleasure, to destroy The sorrows of this live-long night. But she to-morrow will return; Venus, be thou to-morrow great; Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn; And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state. Kind goddess, to no other powers Let us to-morrow's blessings own: Thy darling loves shall guide the hours, And all the day be thine alone.

10

THE DOVE.

Tantæne animis cœlestibus iræ ?-VIRG.

N Virgil's sacred verse we find,

That passion can depress or raise
The heavenly, as the human mind:
Who dare deny what Virgil says?