CUPID'S POWER.
Lovers forbear to grieve, be no more sad,
Here is such News will make your Hearts right glad;
Rouze up yourselves, take courage and be bold,
Look here is Cupids Power for to be sold:
And now a fig for Cupid or his Dart,
Without his Power he cannot wound thy Heart.
To the Tune of Dick and Nan: Or, The Tyrant.
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TO cure melancholly,
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I travers'd the fields,
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To please my sad fancy
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with such as it yields;
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Early one morning
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befure Phoebus did rise,
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With his radiant leams to
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adorn the clear skies.
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The morning was fair,
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the birds sweetly did sing,
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The meddows were circled
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with a silver spring:
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And the stately green trees
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by Boreas cool blast,
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Did delight me with Musick,
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till I them was past.
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At the end of those Trees,
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there was a large Plain,
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Whose colour 'twere pity
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one foot should it stain;
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Its bright streams were as clear
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as Crystal can be,
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With joy I was ravish'd
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this sight for to see.
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I stood and admired,
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but durst not go in,
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For to tread in that Plain
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I thought it a sin;
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Yet being desirous
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the whole Plain to see,
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In haste I did get me up
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into a Tree.
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No sooner I was up,
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but I looked round,
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Of Harmonious Melody
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I heard the sound,
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And strait this green, lovely,
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and inchanted Plain
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Was fill'd with abundance
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of fire and flame.
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The sight made me tremble,
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I quiver'd and shak't,
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My bones it did shatter,
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and my heart it ak't;
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In the Plain I did see
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thousands come tripping,
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After a naked Boy
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bowing and skipping.
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His eyes they were blinded,
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his Hair it was like gold,
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His person 'twas lovely,
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in's hands he did hold
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A fine carved Bow, 'twas
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most curiously done,
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And a Quiver of Arrows
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like an Archers son.
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His attendance was many
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and richly attir'd,
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With Crowns and with Scepters,
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at which I admir'd;
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Kings, Princes, and Ladies,
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came bowing and weeping,
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With doleful sighs and groans,
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they fell a greeting.
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The Second Part, To the same Tune.
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HE smil'd at them all,
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but regarded them not,
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Though all (I perceived)
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was wounded and shot:
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But then he withdrew,
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and left them a space,
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Then this Boy of fire
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the green Plain did trace,
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And came to the end, where
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I was in the Tree,
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It made me sore troubled
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lest he should me see:
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Then I did begin for
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to fret and to rave,
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Fearing to become
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this little Boys slave.
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But such Divine Power
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did rule over me,
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This little blinde Rascal
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he did not me see;
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So when he was come
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to the place where I was,
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His Quiver and Bow he
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laid down on the grass.
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And being delighted
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to hear his own praise,
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His melodious Voice
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most sweetly did raise:
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(Quoth he) I'm little Cupid,
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the great God of Love,
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A Terror to all men,
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my being's above.
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Vulcan my father's
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a Blacksmith by Trade,
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Like Venus my Mother,
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no Beauty was made.
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They compos'd me of fire,
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and beauty together,
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And richly they've arm'd me
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with a Bow and Quiver.
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With my Fathers heat,
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that is fiery hot,
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At Venus-like Beauty
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my Arrows be shot;
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At all sorts of persons
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I do bend my Bow,
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And whilest they be flying,
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mine Arrows do grow.
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This rare gallant Train
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that my person attend,
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Are those that but lately
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my Power did offend,
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And call me an idle,
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and a sawcy Lad,
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For which they are wounded,
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and almost stark mad.
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Diana so chaste, that doth
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scorn to have Mate,
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Whose Court's strongly guarded,
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and bar'd is the Gate,
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Yet the Nymphs that wait on her
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be prickt at the breast;
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The Surgeon's a young man
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that must give them rest.
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The Ginger-bread Lady
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that treads upon Eggs,
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And cannot tell where, nor
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how to set her leggs,
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'Twould comfort the Cockles
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of her heart, if she can
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But be tumbled and kist
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by her Serving-man.
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The cold frozen Virgin
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I set all on fire,
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And my golden Darts
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doth kindle desire;
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For she that did hate
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to hear of my Name,
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Now begs at my Shrine
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to pity her flame.
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The rare Scholars of Mars,
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(brave Souldiers so stout)
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That after they've conquer'd
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their Foes by a rout,
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Whose courage undaunted,
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looks death in the face,
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My invincible power
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doth captive that place.
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The whole World's my Court.
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there's no people free,
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From the Prince to the [beggar,]
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all's subject to me:
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What though I'm [a Lad]
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that's childish a[nd small,]
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Yet I little Cupi[d]
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do conquer the[m all.]
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