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THE Fatal Request to Cupid.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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133

THE Fatal Request to Cupid.

Shew me, said I, thou mighty God of Love,
The brightest Nymph that ever trod the Grove;
When thus the laughing Deity reply'd;
Well, Swain, for once I'll gratify thy Pride:
Laurinda's Form divinely fair behold,
And that the Boast more safely may be told,
Here, take a Signal of her Power; this Dart:
He said, and fiercely shot it in my Heart.