Classic Poem

By a pleasant rivers side
Hart, and hopes on pleasures tide
Might I see with in a bower
Proudly drest with every floure
Which the spring can to us lend
Venus, and her loving freind.

I upon her beauty gas'de,
They mee seeing were amas'de,
Till att last up stept a child
In his face, nott actions mild;
Fly away saide hee for sight
Shall both breed, and kill delight.

Come away, and follow me;
I will lett thee beautys see.
I obay'd him, then hee staid
Hard besid a heav'nly maide
When hee threw a flaming dart,
And unkindly strooke my hart.