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Michael Drayton - Sonnet XXXVI: Thou Purblind Boy
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Cupid Conjured

Thou purblind boy, since thou hast been so slack 
To wound her heart, whose eyes have wounded me, 
And suffer`d her to glory in my wrack, 
Thus to my aid I lastly conjure thee: 
By hellish Styx, by which the Thund`rer swears, 
By thy fair mother`s unavoided power, 
By Hecate`s names, by Proserpine`s sad tears 
When she was rapt to the infernal bower, 
By thine own loved Psyche, by the fires 
Spent on thine alters flaming up to heav`n, 
By all true lovers` sighs, vows, and desires, 
By all the wounds that ever thou hast giv`n: 
I conjure thee by all that I have nam`d 
To make her love, or, Cupid, be thou damn`d.
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