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77. | LXXVII. THE GODS ONE DAY SENT REASON OUT. |
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Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||
427
LXXVII. THE GODS ONE DAY SENT REASON OUT.
The gods one day sent Reason out
To look for Love, their truant-boy;
They bade her seek him all about,
And lure him home with tempting toy.
To look for Love, their truant-boy;
They bade her seek him all about,
And lure him home with tempting toy.
She found him in a rosebud rock'd,
She begg'd him to be back in season;
But still the boy the maiden mock'd,
For Love will never list to Reason.
She begg'd him to be back in season;
But still the boy the maiden mock'd,
For Love will never list to Reason.
The goddess held a jewel up,
With heaven's own glory flashing through it;
“Nay! see my Rose's blushing cup!”
Said Love, “Your gem is nothing to it!”
With heaven's own glory flashing through it;
“Nay! see my Rose's blushing cup!”
Said Love, “Your gem is nothing to it!”
“For shame! false boy! must force be tried?
Is't thus you waste this precious season?”
“Take care! know ye this bow?” he cried;
Ah! Love too oft has conquer'd Reason!
Is't thus you waste this precious season?”
“Take care! know ye this bow?” he cried;
Ah! Love too oft has conquer'd Reason!
“I see your aim! your rhetoric speeds
On proud Olympus ill without me;
But happy Love no Reason needs;
Begone! and when they ask about me,
On proud Olympus ill without me;
But happy Love no Reason needs;
Begone! and when they ask about me,
“Just tell them, in my Rose's heart
I've found so dear, so pure a treasure,
I grudge them not Minerva's art,
Or laughing Hebe's cup of pleasure.”
I've found so dear, so pure a treasure,
428
Or laughing Hebe's cup of pleasure.”
The maid had not a word to say;
She knew the rogue was talking treason;
But back to Ida bent her way;
For Love can better plead than Reason.
She knew the rogue was talking treason;
But back to Ida bent her way;
For Love can better plead than Reason.
Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||