Say, pretty Fool, why shine those eyes
So bright? — too sure they kill;
Each random arrow deadly flies,
And conquers whom you will.

Keep back the rebels, cruel fair,
Nor draw the fatal dart;
The quiv'ring bow bend not: — beware,
Each victim is a heart.

Think not these winning smiles will plead
For pardon, when too late
The tyrant that makes others bleed,
Must meet herself that fate.

For Venus swears by all above,
She will revenge her fame;
For one has robb'd the queen of love,
And Wells' the traitor's name.