III. I faint; I die :' the goddess cried: O cruel! couldft thou find none other To wreck thy fpleen on? Parricide! 'Like Nero, thou haft flain thy mother." IV. Poor Cupid, fobbing, scarce could speak; Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye: Alas! how eafy my mistake! • I took you, for your likeness, Chloe." CUPID's PASTIME, FROM BISHOP PERCY'S RELIQUES OF ANTIENT POETRY. I. T chanc'd, of late, a fhepherd fwain, IT That went to seek his ftraying sheep, Within a thicket, on a plain, Espied a dainty nymph asleep. II. Her golden hair o'erfpread her face; Her careless arms abroad were caft; Her quiver had her pillow's place; Her breaft lay bare to every blaft. III. The shepherd ftood, and gaz'd his fill; Nought durft he do; nought durft he say; Whilst chance, or elfe, perhaps, his will, Did guide the god of love that way. IV. The crafty boy thus fees her fleep, Whom, if fhe wak'd, he durft not fee: But, ere fhe wakes, hies thence apace. VI. Scarce was he gone, but fhe awakes, And spies the fhepherd standing by: Her bended bow in hafte fhe takes, And at the fimple fwain, lets fly. |