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Matthew Prior - Cupid Mistaken
Work rating: Low

As after noon, one summer`s day, 
Venus stood bathing in a river; 
Cupid a-shooting went that way, 
New strung his bow, new fill`d his quiver. 

With skill he chose his sharpest dart: 
With all his might his bow he drew: 
Swift to his beauteous parent`s heart 
The too well-guided arrow flew. 

I faint! I die! the Goddess cry`d: 
O cruel, could`st thou find none other, 
To wreck thy spleen on? Parricide! 
Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother. 

Poor Cupid sobbing scarce could speak; 
Indeed, Mamma, I did not know ye: 
Alas! how easy my mistake? 
I took you for your likeness, Cloe.
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