Cupid Sleeping

Through a shady forest going,

Found we Cupid all alone,

And his cheeks, so smoothly glowing,

Like to golden apples shone.

He had not his quiver by him,

Nor his bow well-bent and strung;

But we soon espied them nigh him,

'Midst the leafy branches hung.

Chains of sleep his limbs encumbered,

While among the flowers he lay;

Smiling, even when he slumbered,

In his cruel, roguish way.

Swarms of tawny bees came flying

All about his waxen lip —

Often thus one sees them trying

Flowers that with honey drip.

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