University of Virginia Library

The Queen of Love in wanton Pride
Was Sporting by a River's Side;
The Brook, as She along did pass,
Into a Mirror smooth'd its Face;
The softly-gliding Current stay'd,
Pleas'd to reflect so sweet a Shade.
In Haste each am'rous River-god
To see Her rose above the Flood,
Then diving, in the Cooling Streams
With Wonder felt unusual Flames.
The Graces, that around Her wait,
All wept, as conscious of her Fate:
Each dewy Flow'r let fall a Tear,
And Winds in Sighs salute her Ear.
Cupid with eager Joy beheld
The Goddess, as She rang'd the Field,
Then at his Mother wing'd the Dart,
And by Mistake he pierc'd her Heart.
Into her Heart the Arrow fled,
The Goddess sigh'd,—She wept,—She bled;
The Arrow with the Blood was stain'd,
And as She bled, She thus complain'd.
Alas! says She, my little Son,
Ah! heedless Boy—what hast thou done!
That Thou shou'dst impiously design
To take Her Life, who gave Thee thine!
To Her surpriz'd He ran with Speed,
He saw Her weep,—He saw Her bleed;
Fixt in her Breast the Shaft he found,
He saw, and felt himself the Wound:
His Quiver, Bow, and Darts he broke,
And almost drown'd in Tears thus spoke.
Unhappy Boy! Mischievous Bow!
That I shou'd wound my Mother so!
But by these flowing Tears I swear,
And by the trickling Wound You bear,
The Arrow that I erring sent,
To Chloe's Cruel Heart was meant.
The Beauties of that Lovely Maid
Have your unwary Son betray'd;
She moves with such Heav'nly Grace,
And such sweet Smiles play o're her Face,
The matchless Virgin charms like You,
The brightest Form that shines below:
Nay Heav'n itself, when You're not there,
Can shew me Nothing Half so fair.

Ah Love! I pity thy hard Fate,
Since I'm alike Unfortunate:
I mourn the Error of thy Bow,
Fair Venus Wrongs affect me too;
Wou'd Chloe's scornful Heart had bled
In thy much injur'd Mother's Stead,
Perhaps when once She felt the Smart,
She'd pity my poor bleeding Heart.