CUPID Mistaken.

CUPID Mistaken.

I.

As after Noon, one Summer's Day, Venus stood bathing in a River; Cupid a-shooting went that Way, New strung his Bow, new fill'd his Quiver.

II.

With Skill He chose his sharpest Dart: With all his Might his Bow He drew: Swift to His beauteous Parent's Heart The too well-guided Arrow flew.

III.

I faint! I die! the Goddess cry'd: O cruel, could'st Thou find none other, To wreck thy Spleen on? Parricide! Like Nero, Thou hast slain thy Mother.

IV.

Poor Cupid sobbing scarce could speak; Indeed, Mamma, I did not know Ye: Alas! how easie my Mistake? I took You for your Likeness, Cloe.