Her bodice half-way fhe unlac'd ; About his arms fhe flily caft

The filken bond, and held him faft.

The god awak'd; and thrice in vain
He ftrove to break the cruel chain ;
And thrice in vain he shook his wing,
Incumber'd in the filken string.

Fluttering the God, and weeping, faid,
Pity poor Cupid, generous maid,
Who happen'd, being blind, to stray,
And on thy bofom loft his way;
Who ftray'd, alas! but knew too well,
He never there muft hope to dwell:
Set an unhappy prisoner free,

Who ne'er intended harm to thee.

To me pertains not, the replies,
To know or care where Cupid flies
What are his haunts, or which his way;
Where he would dwell, or whither stray
Yet will I never fet thee free;

For harm was meant, and harm to me.

Vain fears that vex thy virgin heart!
I'll give thee up my bow and dart;
Untangle but this cruel chain,
And freely let me fly again.

Agreed: fecure my virgin heart:
Inftant give up thy bow and dart :
The chain I'll in return untie ;
And freely thou again fhalt fly.

Thus

Thus he the captive did deliver;

The captive thus gave up his quiver.
The God difarm'd, e'er fince that day,
Paffes his life in harmless play;
Flies round, or fits upon her breast,
A little, fluttering, idle guest.

E'er fince that day, the beauteous maid
Governs the world in Cupid's ftead;
Directs his arrow as fhe wills;

Gives grief, or pleasure; fpares, or kills.

CLOE

HUNTING.

BEHIND her neck her comely tresses tied,
Her ivory quiver graceful by her fide,
A-hunting Cloe went: fhe loft her way,
And through the woods uncertain chanc'd to ftray,
Apollo, paffing by, beheld the maid;

And, fifter dear, bright Cynthia, turn, he said:
The hunted hind lies close in yonder brake.
Loud Cupid laugh'd,. to fee the God's mistake;
And, laughing, cried, Learn better, great divine,
To know thy kindred, and to honour mine.
Rightly advis'd, far hence thy fifter seek,
Or on Meander's bank, or Latmus' peak.

But in this nymph, my friend, my fifter know:
She draws my arrows, and the bends my bow:

Fair Thames the haunts, and every neighbouring grove,
Sacred to foft recefs, and gentle love.

Go,

Go, with thy Cynthia, hurl the pointed fpear
At the rough boar, or chase the flying deer :
I and my Cloe take a nobler aim:

At human hearts we fling, nor ever mifs the game:

CUPID AND GANYMEDE.

N Heaven, one holy-day, you read

IN

In wife Anacreon, Ganymede
Drew heedlefs Cupid in, to throw
A main, to pafs an hour, or fo.
The little Trojan, by the way,

By Hermes taught, play'd all the play.
The god unhappily engag'd,

By nature rash, by play enrag'd,

Complain'd, and figh'd, and cried, and fretted;
Loft every earthly thing he betted :
In ready money, all the ftore

Pick'd-up long fince from Danaë's shower;

A fnuff-box, fet with bleeding hearts,
Rubies, all pierc'd with diamond darts;
His nine-pins made of myrtle wood
(The tree in Ida's forest flood);
His bowl pure gold, the very same
Which Paris gave the Cyprian dame;
Two table-books in fhagreen covers,
Fill'd with good verfe from real lovers;
Merchandise rare! a billet-doux,
Its matter paffionate, yet true;

Heaps

Heaps of hair-rings, and cypher'd feals;
Rich trifles; ferious bagatelles.

What fad diforders play begets!
Desperate and mad, at length he sets

Those darts, whose points makes gods adore
His might, and deprecate his power :
Thofe darts, whence all our joy and pain
Arife: those darts Come, feven's the main,
Cries Ganymede: the usual trick :
Seven, flur a fix; eleven: a nick.

Ill news goes fast: 'twas quickly known,
That fimple Cupid was undone.
Swifter than lightning Venus flew :
Too late the found the thing too true,
Guefs how the goddess greets her fon :
Come hither, firrah; no, begone;
And, hark ye, is it so indeed?
A comrade you for Ganymede ?
An imp as wicked, for his age,
As any earthly lady's page;
A fcandal and a fcourge to Troy;
A prince's fon; a black-guard boy;
A fharper, that with box and dice
Draws in young deities to vice.
All Heaven is by the ears together,
Since first that little rogue came hither:
Juno herself has had no peace :
And truly I've been favour'd lefs :
For Jove, as Fame reports (but Fame
Says things not fit for me to name),

Has

Has acted ill for fuch a god,
And taken ways extremely odd.
And thou, unhappy child, fhe faid,
(Her anger by her grief allay'd)
Unhappy child, who thus haft loft
All the eftate we e'er could boaft;
Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy name defpis'd, thy weakness known?
Nor fhall thy fhrine on earth be crown'd;
Nor fhall thy power in Heaven be own'd;
When thou nor man nor god canft wound.
Obedient Cupid kneeling cried,

Ceafe, dearest mother, ceafe to chide :
Gany's a cheat, and I'm a bubble :
Yet why this great excefs of trouble?
The dice were falfe: the darts are gone :
Yet how are you, or I, undoné?

The lofs of thefe I can fupply
With keener fhafts from Cloe's eye:
Fear not we e'er can be difgrac'd,
While that bright magazine shall laft:
Your crouded altars ftill fhall fmoke;
And man your friendly aid invoke:
Jove fhall again revere your power,
And rife a iwan, or fall a fhower.