Classic Poem

As little Cupid blith and gay
Among the Roses flew,
Brushing the Vi'lets in his Way,
Impearl'd with Morning Dew.

His painted Wings he wanton spread,
To skim the daisi'd Lawn;
Then perching on a Lilly's Head
Stood smiling in the Dawn.

Young Lesbia now amid the Gales
The Breath of Morn bestows,
Fann'd by the Fragrance which it steals
From Cowslips and the Rose.

To yonder Grotto arch'd with Green
The lovely Nymph drew nigh;
The warbling Thrush inchants the Scene,
With Bees which humming fly.

Now plac'd within the blissful Shade,
Her Sparrow flutt'ring round,
Cupid descries th' unguarded Maid,
And meditates the Wound.

His glitt'ring Bow he hasty bent,
Then from his Quiver drew
The pointed Shaft he twanging sent,
The Shaft which erring flew.

To pierce her Breast he speeds the Dart,
Yet Love himself shoots wide:
His Arrow enter'd Dickey 's Heart;
He on her Bosom dy'd.

Who would not envy his sweet Death,
And Dickey 's Doom desire,
Within her Arms to yield his Breath,
And on her Breast expire!