Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

“A gentleman, whose beauty and address procured him the appellation of Cupid from the ladies two years ago, acted as master of the ceremonies at Margate, in which capacity he is at present greatly wanted. Upon this the following lines are founded.”

As on the wave-worn coast I lately trod,
And heard the roarings of the watry God,
On a lone cliff, with barren sea-weed spread,
Clorinda sat—I wond'ring saw; and sped
With zealous haste, to greet the blooming maid.
But, as I nearer drew, encreas'd surprize
Sprung from her pensive look and downcast eyes:
With earnest warmth, “Ah why, lov'd fair, I cried,
“Dost thou from sweet society divide?
“Why seek the craggy cliff, and gloomy strand?
“Why lean thy head upon thy snowy hand?
“And why do looks of sadness, charmer, why,
“Thus damp the living lustre of thine eyes?”

“And can you ask, she said, or want to know
“Whence springs my own, and whence each female's woe,
“That dives for rosy health in Margate's waves;
“That seeks in Margate's rooms for willing slaves!

“Learn, learn the truth—and our sad loss deplore—
“Cupid, capricious God, is here no more!”

All sympathetic, with the maid I sigh'd:
And “ah capricious cruel Cupid cried!”

“Who now, said she, shall thro' the rooms advance,
“Guide the gay band, and lead the sprightly dance?
“Who now the graceful minuet direct,
“And well-chosen partners for the fair select?
“Who, to the tuneful band, with glove so white,
“Shall wave, and bid them play each maid's delight?
“Or who the tables in the card-room fill,
“For sober whist, brisk loo, or blythe quadrille?

“Ah fatal loss! with me that loss deplore!
“Cupid, capricious God, is here no more!

“Who now can bear the once-lov'd rooms to tread,
“Whence with their master, every grace is fled!
“And where each moment, by each object brought,
“His lov'd idea lives in every thought!
“Where all—ah gentle Deity, too plain
“Confess thy absence, and augment my pain?
“Silent we sit;—expecting who shall lead—
“The music's silent—and the beaux seem dead!

“Ah fatal loss! with me that loss deplore;
“Cupid, capricious God, is here no more!

“Perchance a lonely minuet's begun—
“But who shall dance the next, when this is done?—
“That's darkness all, and doubt! rank, beauty, grace,
“Avail not here—Oh come resume thy place;
“Come gentle Cupid,—see we sit in vain—
“And briskly move our fans with warm disdain—
“Far other motions do we wish to prove—
“Return, and crown our wishes, God of Love!

“Ah fatal loss,—let us lament no more:
“But come, dear Cupid, and our joys restore!

“While thou art absent, every scene appears
“Dull as my heart, and mournful as my fears:
“More loud and boisterous roars th' indignant sea,
“And the rough rocks seem rougher, wanting thee:
“Intrepid to the bath I once cou'd hie,
“For Love was there: and he could soon descry
“The eye's new lustre, and the cheek's fresh dye.
“Now, to that bath with timid step I go,
“And plunge affrighted to the gulph below;
“With unconcern I leave the dull machine;
“For now—what now avails it to be seen?
“What now avails the cheek's re-kindled flush!
“No love is here—and vain is beauty's blush!

“Oh the sad loss, let us lament no more;—
“Come, come, dear Cupid, and our joys restore!

“Return, oh Cupid, God of Love return,
“Nor let Clorinda unavailing mourn:
“Return, and to the rooms their life restore,
“And give to beauty all its former pow'r:
“Return, and with thee bring thy bow: for hearts
“Our eyes shall furnish out sufficient darts:
“Return, or from the cliffs myself along
“I'll cast, like her so fam'd in classic song;
“Or else from hence I'll go—” “With me, sweet maid,”
Seizing the softness of her hand I said,—
“To yonder rooms, where crowds of suitors wait,
“And wonder why Clorinda stays so late:
“Where you shall quickly find, that you complain
“Of Cupid's absence, lovely fair, in vain:

“For Cupid's absence of no weight can prove,
“Where his own mother comes, the queen of love!
“And, when th' unerring shafts herself supplies
“By which the throbbing heart delighted dies,
“From her own rosy lips, and love-inspiring eyes?”
The fair one smil'd:—nor yet withdrew her hand;
Nor unreluctant left the barren strand.
I press'd her lips, her eyes new lustre gain'd;
Her cheeks a fresher tint of crimson stain'd:
And as she pass'd all-graceful up the room,
In elegance of mein, and beauty's bloom;
The belles with admiration view'd the maid,
And the rapt beaux in silent awe survey'd.
While general pleasure speedily declar'd,
That where his mother smiles, Cupid may well be spar'd.