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
.