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THE Shooting Match: TO CUPID.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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121

THE Shooting Match: TO CUPID.

Come, little God of Love, for once, let's try
Who is the better Mark's-man, You, or I:
So—fill your Quiver, summon all your Art,
Well now the Bust? the bright Corinna's Heart,
There, Sir, you've miss'd, and I have pierc'd the Part.
I own I miss'd! but 'twas thro' want of Sight,
To guide my never-erring Arrow right;
But—lest you should conceive that I design'd,
To take Advantage o'er you, 'cause you're Blind;
We'll have another Tryal in the Dark,
And let him take the Maid, who hits the Mark.