Cupid's Courtesy: OR, THE Young GALLANT Foiled at his own Weapon.  

He scorned Cupid and his Dart,  
Until he felt a wounded Heart.   
To a most pleasant Northern Tune, etc.  
 
 

Through the cool shady Woods,  
as I was ranging,  
I heard the pretty Birds  
notes sweetly changing;  
Down by a Meadow side,  
there runs a River,  
A little Boy I espied  
with Bow and Quiver:   

Little Boy tell me why  
thou art here diving?  
Art thou some Runaway,  
and hast no biding?  
I am no Runaway,  
Venus my Mother,  
She gave me leave to play,  
when I came hither.   

Little Boy go with me,  
and be my Servant,  
I will take care to see  
for thy preferment.  
If I with thee should go,  
Venus would chide me,  
And take away my Bow,  
and never abide me.   

Little Boy let me know,  
what's thy name termed,  
That thou dost wear a Bow,  
and go'st so armed?  
You may perceive the same,  
with often changing,  
Cupid it is my name,  
I live by ●anging.   

If Cupid be thy name,  
that shoots at Rovers,  
I have heard of thy fame,  
by wounded Lovers.  
Should any languish that  
are set on fire,  
By such a naked Brat  
I much admire.   

If thou dost but the least,  
at my Laws grumble,  
I'll pierce thy stubborn breast.  
and make thee humble:  
If I with golden Dart  
would thee but surely,  
There's no physician's Art,  
that e'er can cure thee.   

Little Boy with thy Bow,  
why dost thou threaten;  
It is not long ago,  
since thou was beaten;  
Thy wanton Mother fair,  
Venus will chide thee;  
When all thy Arrows are gone,  
thou may'st go hid thee.   

Of powerful Shafts you see,  
I am well stored.  
Which makes my Deity  
so much adored:  
With one poor Arrow now  
I'll make thee shiver,  
And bend unto my Bow,  
and fear my Quiver.   

Dear little Cupid be  
courteous and kindly,  
I know thou canst not hit,  
but shootest blindly.  
Although thou call'st me blind,  
surely i'll hit thee,  
That thou shalt quickly find,  
i'll not forget thee.   

Then little Cupid caught.  
his Bow so nimble,  
And shot a fatal Shaft  
which made him tremble.  
Go tell thy Mistress dear,  
thou canst discover,  
What all the Passions are  
of a dying Lover.   

And now his gallant heart  
sorely was bleeding▪  
And felt the greatest smart  
from Love proceeding:  
He did her help implore,  
whom he affected;  
But found that more and more  
him she rejected.   

For Cupid, with his Craft,  
quickly had chosen,  
And with a leaden Shaft,  
her heart had frozen;  
Which caused this Lover more  
sadly to languish,  
And Cupid's Aid implore  
to heal his Anguish.   

He humble Pardon craved  
for his Offence past,  
And vowed himself a Slave  
and to Love steadfast;  
His Prayers so ardent were,  
whilst his heart panted,  
That Cupid lent an ear,  
and his suit granted.   

For by his present Plaint,  
he was regarded,  
And his adored Saint  
his love rewarded:  
And now they live in joy,  
sweetly embracing,  
And left the little Boy  
in this Woods chase.    

London: Printed by and for W. C. for A. M. and sold by the Booksellers.