Cupid as he lay among Roses, by a Bee was stung. Whereupon in anger flying To his Mother, said thus crying; Help! O help! your Boy's a dying. And why, my pretty Lad, said she? Then blubbering, replyed he, A winged Snake has bitten me, Which Country people call a Bee. At which she smil'd; then with her hairs And kisses drying up his tears: Alas! said she, my Wag! if this Such a pernicious torment is: Come tel me then, how great's the smart Of those, thou woundest with thy Dart! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO W.P.: 1 by GEORGE SANTAYANA TONE PICTURE (MALIPIERO: IMPRESSONI DAL VERO) by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER THE LITTLE BOY LOST, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE CITY TREES by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY GIRL TO SOLDIER ON LEAVE by ISAAC ROSENBERG |