 | A Collection of Original Poems |  |
67
CUPID GONE ASTRAY.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Lately wand'ring o'er the green,
Beauty's son, a little boy,
Full of frolic, mirth, and joy?
If you know his shelter, say,
He's from Venus gone astray.
Lately wand'ring o'er the green,
Beauty's son, a little boy,
Full of frolic, mirth, and joy?
If you know his shelter, say,
He's from Venus gone astray.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Such a one trip o'er the green.
By his marks the God you'll know:
O'er his shoulder hangs a bow,
And a quiver fraught with darts,
Poison sure to human hearts;
Tho' he's naked, little, blind,
He can triumph o'er the mind.
O'er his shoulder hangs a bow,
And a quiver fraught with darts,
Poison sure to human hearts;
Tho' he's naked, little, blind,
He can triumph o'er the mind.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Such a one trip o'er the green.
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Subtle as the light'ning's wound
Is his piercing arrow found;
While the bosom'd heart it pains,
No external mark remains;
Reason's shield itself is broke
By the unsuspected stroke.
Is his piercing arrow found;
While the bosom'd heart it pains,
No external mark remains;
Reason's shield itself is broke
By the unsuspected stroke.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Oft the urchin's seen to lie,
Basking in the sunny eye;
Or his destin'd prey he seeks
On the maiden's rosy cheeks;
Snowy breasts, or curling hair,
Oft conceal his pleasing snare.
Basking in the sunny eye;
Or his destin'd prey he seeks
On the maiden's rosy cheeks;
Snowy breasts, or curling hair,
Oft conceal his pleasing snare.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Such a one trip o'er the green.
She that the recess reveals
Where the God himself conceals,
Shall a kiss receive this night
From him who is her heart's delight;
To Venus let her bring the boy,
She shall taste love's sweetest joy.
Where the God himself conceals,
69
From him who is her heart's delight;
To Venus let her bring the boy,
She shall taste love's sweetest joy.
Tell me, lasses, have ye seen
Such a one trip o'er the green.
Such a one trip o'er the green.
| A Collection of Original Poems | |