Virtus Rediviva Or a Panegyricke On the late King Charls the I. Second Monarch of Great Britain. By Tho. Forde |
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Loves Duel, out of Anacreon.
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 | Virtus Rediviva |  |
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Loves Duel, out of Anacreon.
Cupid all his arts did prove,To invite my heart to love:
But I alwayes did delay,
His mild summons to obey:
Being deaf to all his charms,
Strait the god assumes his arms.
With his bow and quiver, he
Takes the field to duel me.
Armed like Achilles, I
With my shield and spear defie
His bold challenge: as he cast
His golden darts, I as fast
Catch'd his arrows in my shield,
Till I made him leave the field.
Fretting and dis-armed, then
Th'angry god returns agen,
All in flames; 'stead of a dart,
Throws himself into my heart,
Useless, I my shield require,
When the fort is all on fire;
I in vain the field did win,
Now the enemy's within.
Thus betray'd, at last I cry,
Love! th'hast got the victory.
| Virtus Rediviva | |