DAN CUPID with a broken shaft Had bent his grand-dad, Jove, quite double, And then, to cap the climax, laughed; And so he found himself in trouble; Up on that august lap was yanked And thoroughly and soundly spanked, Till Cupid saddened, sobered, sore, Wished that his wings had sprouted lower. Dan Cupid then in rage and grief Straightway set out to find his mother, Who stitched upon her evening leaf, (She swore she didn’t have another, Or, if she had, she still would swear She had none that was fit to wear.) And so the naughty youngster found her With leaves and sewing girls around her. When Venus heard her infant’s wail, In apprehension she besought him To tell her all his angry tale; Then to her breast she, breathless, caught him. And, as his tear-stained face she kissed, Upon an arrow scratched her wrist. So in her veins in this strange fashion Was introduced the germ of passion. Indignant at the godlet’s tale, She hastened to protest to Zeus, Her lovely cheek with anger pale, She was prepared to raise the deuce. But as Olympus’ mount drew near, She spied Adonis chasing deer. And in a moment from her head All thoughts of wrath and Cupid fled. Straightway she hitched her gentle team Of doves, and left her carriage standing, For this fair youth to her doth seem A hero, comely and commanding— Although in fact and eke in truth He was a simple country youth; And so it happened that the Queen Of Beauty found him shy and green Now, Venus, veteran at the game Of flirting, would not be denied; As goddesses can feel no shame, She soon was anchored to his side; Do what he would, he could not shake her, Go where he would, he had to take her; Until one morn upon the plain She found the fair Adonis slain. This story should a warning be To maidens bold who wish to woo, For if you seek your lover, he Most certainly will not seek you; All men may love, but just the same They would be hunters—not the game. Adonis, so the story saith, |