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EBBA 34019

National Library of Scotland - Crawford
Ballad XSLT Template
Cupids Courtesie:
OR,
The young Gallant foil'd at his own Weapon.
He scorned Cupid and his Dart,
Until he felt a wounded heart.
To a pleasant Northern Tune.
By J. P.

THrough the cool shady Woods,
as I was ranging,
I heard the pretty Birds
notes sweetly changing
Down y a Meadow side,
there runs a River,
A little Boy I espy'd
with Bow and Quiver.

Little Boy tell me why
thou art here diving,
Art thou some Run away,
and hast no biding:
I am no run-away,
venus my Mother,
She gave me leave to play
when I came hither.

Little boy go with me,
and be my servant,
I will take care to see,
for thy preferment.

If I with thee should go,
Venus would chide me,
And take away my Bow,
and never abide me.

Little Boy let me know,
what's thy name termed,
That thou dost wear a Bow,
and gost so armed:
You may perceive the same,
with often changing;
Cupid it is my name,
I live by ranging.

If Cupid be thy name,
that shoots at Rovers,
I have heard of thy fame,
by wounded Lovers.
Should any languish that
are set on fire,
By such a naked brat
I much admire.

IF thou dost but the least,
at my Laws grumble,
Ile pierce thy stubborn br[e]ast,
and make thee humble:
If I with golden Dart
wound thee but surely:
There's no Phsitians art,
that e're can cure thee.

Little boy with thy bow,
why dost thou threaten:
It is not long ago,
since thou was beaten:
Thy wanton mother fair,
Venus will chide thee:
When all thy Arrows are gone,
thou mayest go hide thee.

Of powerful shafts you see,
I am well stored.
Which makes my diety,
so much adored:
With one poor Arrow now,
I'le make thee shiver,
And bend unto my Bow,
and fear my Quiver.

Dear little Cupid be
courteous and kindly,
I know thou canst not hit
but shootest blindly.
Although thou callst me blind,
surely i'le hit thee,
That th[o]u shalt quickly find,
i'le not forget thee.

Then little Cupid caught
his Bow so nimble,
And shot a fatal Shaft
which made him tremble.

Go tell thy Mistris dear
thou canst discover
What all the Passions are
of a dying Lover.

And now this gallant heart
sorely was bleeding:
And felt the greatest smart
from Love proceeding:
He did her help implore,
whom he affected:
But found that more and more,
him she rejected.

For Cupid with his craft
quickly had chosen:
And with a leaden shaft,
her heart had frozen:
Which caus'd this Lover more
sadly to languish:
And Cupids aid implore
to heal his anguish.

He humble pardon crav'd
for his offence past,
And vow'd himself a slave
and to love stedfast:
His prayers so ardent were,
whilst his heart panted,
That Cupid lent an ear,
and his suit granted.

For by his present plaint,
he was regarded,
And his adored Saint
[h]is Love rewa[r]ded:
And now they live in Joy,
sweetly imbracing,
And left the little Boy
in the woods chasing.


Printed for W. Thackeray at the Angel in Duck-Lane, J. M. & A. M.

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