Guefs how the goddess greets her fon :
Come hither Sirrah: no, begone;
And hark ye, is it fo indeed?
A comrade you for Ganymede ?
An imp as wicked for his age
As any earthly lady's page;
A fcandal and a fcourge to Troy,
A prince's fon? A blackguard boy;
A fharper that with box and dice
Draws in young deities to vice.
All heaven is by the cars together
Since first that little rogue came hither:
Juno herself has had no peace,
And truly I've been favour'd lefs:
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 haft loft
All the eftate we e'er could boaft,
Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy name defpis'd, thy weakness known?
Nor fhall thy fhrine on earth be crown'd
Nor fhall thy pow'r in heav'n be own'd.
When thou nor man nor god canft wound.
Obedient Cupid, kneeling cry'd,
Ceafe, dearest Mother, ceafe to chide;
Gany's a cheat, and I m a bubble;
Yet why this great excess of trouble?
The dice were talfe; the darts are gone;
Yet how are you or I undone ?
The lofs of thefe I can fupply
With keener fhafts from Cloe's eye:
Fear not we e'er can be difgrac'd
While that bright magazine shall last :
Your crowded altars itil fhall imoke,
And man your friendly aid invoke ;

Jove fhall again revere your pow'r,
And rife a fwan or fall a fhow'r.

A

CUPID MISTAKEN.

S after noon one fummer's day Venus ftood bathing in a river, Cupid a-fhooting went that way,

New ftrung his bow, new fill'd his quiver.

II.

With skill he chofe his fharpeft dart ;
With all his might his bow he drew,
Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
The too well guided arrow flew.

III.

I faint! I die! the goddess cry'd:
O cruel, couldft thou find none other
To wreak thy fpleen on? Parricide!
Like Nero thou haft flain thy mother.

IV.

Poor Cupid, fobbing, fcarce could speak ;
Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye :

Alas! how eafy my mistake?

I took for you

CUPID IN AMBUSH.

defire,

Toft' to many has fuccessful been
Upon his arm to let his mistress lean,
Or with her airy fan to cool her heat,
Or gently fqueeze her knees, or prefs her feet.
All public fports to favour young
With opportunities like this confpire.
E'en where his skill the gladiator fhows,
With human blood where the Arena flows,
There oftentimes Love's quiver-bearing boy
Prepares his bow and arrows to deftroy;
While the fpectator gazes on the fight,
And fees 'em wound each other with delight;

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While he his pretty mistress entertains,
And wagers with her who the conqueft gains,
Slily the god takes aim, and hits his heart,
And in the wounds he fees he bears his part.

CUPID TURNED PLOUGHMAN.
FROM MOSCHUS.

His alieter his shoulders tyd,

IS lamp, his bow, and quiver laid afide,

Sly Cupid, always on new mischief bent,
To the rich field and furrow'd tillage went;
Like any ploughman toil'd the little god,
His tune he whiftled, and his wheat he fow'd;
Then fat and laugh'd, and to the skies above
Raifing his eye, he thus infulted Jove :
Lay by your hail, your hurtful ftorms restrain,
And as I bid you let it fhine or rain,
Elfe you again beneath my yoke shall bow,
Feel the fharp goad, and draw the fervile plough;
What once Europa was Nannette is now.

CUPID TURNED STROLLER.

FROM ANACREON.

AT dead of night, when stars appear,

And ftrong Boötes turns the Bear,

my

reft?

When mortals fleep their cares away,
Fatigu'd with labours of the day,
Cupid was knocking at my gate;
Who's there, fays I? who knocks fo late,
Disturbs my dreams, and breaks
O fear not me, a harmless guest,
He faid; but open, open pray ;
A foolish child, I've loft my way,
And wander here this moonlight night,
All wet and cold, and wanting light.
With due regard his voice I heard,
Then rofe, a ready lamp prepar'd,

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