Poems, Songs and Love-Verses upon several Subjects. By Matthew Coppinger |
 |
|
A Complaint against Cupid, for causing a distastful Love.
|
 | Poems, Songs and Love-Verses |  |
80
A Complaint against Cupid, for causing a distastful Love.
Farewell, my scornfull Female Saint,
In vain you boast your conq'ring Eyes,
Whilst your deportment does depaint
A Tygress o're a Sacrifice.
In vain you boast your conq'ring Eyes,
Whilst your deportment does depaint
A Tygress o're a Sacrifice.
Desist, for by the Powers above,
And by the Oath they use to swear,
My anger's greater than my Love,
And your disdain I scorn to bear.
And by the Oath they use to swear,
My anger's greater than my Love,
And your disdain I scorn to bear.
For your base pride you hold so high,
Will at the last your self anoy,
Like to the Cockatrices Eye,
Whose self-reflection doth destroy.
Will at the last your self anoy,
Like to the Cockatrices Eye,
Whose self-reflection doth destroy.
Know then, that I am no such Fool,
To doat on your Complexion;
My Passion is become too cool
For such a weak Infection.
To doat on your Complexion;
My Passion is become too cool
For such a weak Infection.
Those am'rous glances which I paid
To those disdainful looks of thine,
Are now asham'd that e're they made
An Idol to adorn thy Shrine.
To those disdainful looks of thine,
Are now asham'd that e're they made
An Idol to adorn thy Shrine.
81
Cupid, henceforth I vow despite
Against thy Quiver and thy Bow,
Did I plead Nonage in thy sight,
Fond Boy, that thou shouldst use me so?
Against thy Quiver and thy Bow,
Did I plead Nonage in thy sight,
Fond Boy, that thou shouldst use me so?
I was not born of Stygian race,
Against the Gods I ne're made War,
Nor did thy Temples e're deface,
Or blemish'd Venus with a Scar.
Against the Gods I ne're made War,
Nor did thy Temples e're deface,
Or blemish'd Venus with a Scar.
It was not I that took the pains
Her secret Love for to discover,
And bound her in Cyclopean Chains,
Caressing her Licentious Lover.
Her secret Love for to discover,
And bound her in Cyclopean Chains,
Caressing her Licentious Lover.
How came it then that thou should'st make
So strange a love my Heart to seize,
And give new vigor to the Snake
Which was before content to freeze?
So strange a love my Heart to seize,
And give new vigor to the Snake
Which was before content to freeze?
Didst thou at random shoot a Dart,
Directed by no certain flight,
To see if thou couldst hit a Heart
Which did thy Childish Godhead slight?
Directed by no certain flight,
To see if thou couldst hit a Heart
Which did thy Childish Godhead slight?
Or art thou like some Idle Lad,
Whom no delight can e're content,
But in a humour raging mad,
Throws stones into the Element?
Whom no delight can e're content,
But in a humour raging mad,
Throws stones into the Element?
82
If so, a Rod is fitter far
For to correct thy Childish will,
And thousand petty Gods there are
Can draw thy Bow, yet never kill.
For to correct thy Childish will,
And thousand petty Gods there are
Can draw thy Bow, yet never kill.
But I Blaspheme, great God of Hearts,
Thou did'st this thing, that thou mightst try
With what a strength thy powerful Darts
Force Love against Antipathy.
Thou did'st this thing, that thou mightst try
With what a strength thy powerful Darts
Force Love against Antipathy.
| Poems, Songs and Love-Verses | |