University of Virginia Library


54

ODE XIV. Upon Cupid.

Victor-love! I yield, I yield,
Thou hast fairly won the field,
Thou, who oft hast vainly strove
To persuade me (victor-love!)
By the softest terms to yield,
Thou, by force hast won the field.
To the battle love did go,
With his quiver and his bow.
I my jav'lin, I my shield,
Like a new Achilles weild.
Furious, love begins the fight,
Which I ward by subtle flight;
Love pursues with might and main,
Shooting all his darts in vain;
But, at length, in want of dart,
Shoots himself into my heart,
Yet insensible of flame;
And dissolves my vital frame.
Now my jav'lin, now my shield,
All in vain, in vain I weild:
Arms without must surely fail,
When the foes within prevail.