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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 way;
Where he would dwell, or whither stray: 30
Yet will I never set thee free:
For harm was meant, and harm to me.
Wain 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. 40
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. So
to EHIND her neck her comely tresses #5 tied, % Her ivory quiver graceful by her side, =os 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. 10 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 neighboring 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: 19 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: ! U 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; 2U" Merchandise rarel 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
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 Wenus 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? 40
An imp as wicked, for his age,
As any earthly lady's page;
A scandal and a scourge to Troy;
A prince's son 1 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: 50
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, 0 whither wilt thou run,
Thy name despis'd, thy weakness known 2 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 70
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.
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
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.
WOL. I. H