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The Conquest.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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192

The Conquest.

Oft had I read of Cupid's Arms,
His matchless Power, resistless Charms,
How he defy'd Jove's thund'ring Hand,
Tho' loaded with the flaming Brand;
These Wonders put me to a stand.
But when I found this mighty God a Boy,
Naked, defenceless, blind, his Arms a Toy;
I laugh'd to think the Gods were foil'd
By such a little silly Child:
When Rosalinda strait came by,
Keen roguish Lightning arm'd her Eye,
Pity, fair Nymph, I faint, I die—
No more I'll wonder at this Infant's Art,
When your bright Eyes direct and head the Dart.