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Who happened, being blind, to stray;
And on thy bosom lost his way!

Who strayed, alas! but knew too well
He never there must hope to dwell!
Set an unhappy pris'ner free;

Who ne'er intended harm to thee!'

'To me pertains not,' she 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 set thee free;

For harm was meant, and meant 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! Secure my virgin heart!
Instant give up thy bow and dart!
The chain I'll in return untie,
And freely thou again shalt fly!'

Thus she the captive did deliver; The captive thus gave up his quiver!

The God disarmed, e'er since that day, Passes his life in harmless play; Flies round, or sits upon her breast, A little, flutt'ring, idle guest!

E'er since that day, the beauteous Maid Governs the World in CUPID'S stead: Directs his arrow as she wills;

Gives grief, or pleasure! spares, or kills!

In vain, you tell your parting Lover, You wish fair winds may waft him over! Alas! what winds can happy prove,

That bear me far from what I love?
Alas! what dangers on the Main
Can equal those that I sustain
From slighted vows, and cold disdain?

Be gentle and, in pity, choose To wish the wildest tempests loose! That, thrown again upon the coast Where first my shipwracked heart was lost, I may, once more, repeat my pain! Once more, in dying notes complain Of slighted vows, and cold disdain!

CUPID AND GANYMEDE.

IN Heaven, one holiday, you read
In wise ANACREON, GANYMEDE
Drew heedless CUPID in, to throw
A Main, to pass an hour or so.
The little Trojan, by the way,

By HERMES taught, played all the play!

The God, unhappily engaged, By nature rash, by Play enraged,

Complained, and sighed, and cried, and fretted, Lost ev'ry earthly thing he betted!

In ready money, all the store

Picked up, long since, from DANA's Shower!
A Snush-box set with bleeding hearts,
Rubies, all pierced with diamond darts!
His Nine-pins, made of myrtle wood;
The tree in Ida's forest stood!

His Bowl pure gold, the very same
Which PARIS gave the Cyprian Dame!
Two Table-Books, in shagreen covers,
Filled with good verse from real Lovers;
Merchandise rare! A Billet-doux,

Its matter passionate; yet true!

Heaps of Hair Rings, and Cyphered Seals!
Rich trifles! serious bagatelles !

What sad disorders Play begets! Desp'rate and mad, at length, he sets Those darts; whose points make Gods adore His might, and deprecate his power! Those darts; whence all our joy and pain Arise! Those darts-' Come, Seven 's the Main!' Cries GANYMEDE. The usual trick!

'Seven, slur a Six, Eleven! A nick!'

Ill news goes fast! 'Twas quickly known,
That simple CUPID was undone !

Swifter than lightning VENUS flew!
Too late she found the thing too true!
Guess how the Goddess greets her son!
'Come hither, Sirrah! 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 scandal and a scourge to Troy!
A Prince's son! A blackguard boy!
A sharper 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 favoured less!
For Jove, as FAME reports (but FAME
Says things not fit for me to name!),

Has acted ill, for such a God;
And taken ways extremely odd!

'And thou, unhappy child!' she said, (Her anger by her grief allayed) 'Unhappy child! who thus hast lost All the estate we e'er could boast! Whither? O, whither wilt thou run; Thy name despised, thy weakness known? Nor shall thy shrine on Earth be crowned, Nor shall thy power in Heaven be owned; When thou, nor Man, nor God, canst wound!'

Obedient CUPID, kneeling, cried,
'Cease, dearest Mother! cease to chide!
GANY's a Cheat; and I'm a Bubble!
Yet why this great excess of trouble?
The dice were false! the darts are gone!
Yet how are you, or I, undone ?

The loss of these I can supply
With keener darts from CLOE's eye!
Fear not, we e'er can be disgraced
While that bright magazine shall last!
Your crowded altars still shall smoke;
And Man, your friendly aid invoke !
JOVE shall again revere your power;
And rise a Swan, or fall a Shower!'

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