OH! CUPID'S BOW.
I
Oh! Cupid's bow
Is not to blame
For half the woe
Which bears his name:
Another child
Assumes his form;
He's just as wild,
And just as warm:
He copies each
Seductive wile,
His gentle speech,
His winning smile:
With subtle flame
He tips his darts,
Andt akes his aim
At female hearts;
His wings we view
As amply plum'd;
His blindness too
Is well assum'd:
That nymph is wise
Who cautious moves;
Flirtation's eyes
Oft mimick Love's.
II
When first he glides
To woman's feet,
Flirtation hides
His worst deceit;
His eyes are shut,
His wings conceal'd,
And nothing but
His smiles reveal'd:
The nymph awhile
But half approves,
Yet thinks the smile
Is really Love's:
She feels for one
Who never feels,
Whose heart is stone,
While hearts he steals;
And when he wins,
Ah! fickle swain,
He soon begins
The game again;
And while she sighs,
Her sadness proves,
Flirtation's eyes
Have mimick'd Love's.
