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ANACREONTIQUE, by                    
First Line: As it happen'd on a night
Last Line: Your heart was half as safe as they
Subject(s): Cupid; Eros


AS it happen'd on a night
Full of rain and void of light,
Dismal night! when not a star
Shone in all the hemisphere;
And on earth, by sleep oppressed,
Every soul was gone to rest,
Love unknown to me before,
Love, stood knocking at my door.
"Whence, and who so late at night,"
(Said I, waking in a fright,)
"Dare so rude a knocking keep,
To disturb my downy sleep;
Sleep from every sorrow free,
Sleep so rare a guest to me?"
"Little cause have you to fear
Whence we come and who we are;
Love," the subtle rogue, replies,
"Gentle stranger, prithee rise,
And some tender care employ,
On a little harmless boy,
Who, long wandering up and down,
Unacquainted with the town,
Trembling, cold, and wet all o'er,
Here have lit upon a door."
Mov'd at what the urchin said,
Simple fool, I rose from bed,
Struck a light, and op'd the door;
Where a little boy I spied,
Wings that on his shoulder wore,
Bow and arrow by his side,
Ent'ring, I his name inquire,
"Lead me, master, to the fire;
For my name," he made reply,
"You shall know it by and by."
I led him to't, all seeming mild,
And, as he said, a harmless child.
His little hands so chill with cold,
In mine, to warm, I fondly hold:
His little locks, so wet with rain,
I gently wring, and dry again.
When strait reviving by my care,
When warm'd his hands, and dried his hair,
"Landlord," said he, "I fain would know
How fares my dart, how fares my bow?
If proof against the wet, or no.
Landlord, how fares my dart and bow?"
He bent his bow, he fixt his dart,
And shot me full into the heart.
Stung with unsufferable pain,
I drew the dart with might and main;
With might and main I drew the dart,
But left th' impression on my heart
Of her, whose image it did bear,
Cloe, the gods' peculiar care.
All this he saw, and seeing, smiled,
No more a little harmless child.
But, little imp, devoid of shame,
"Then," said he, "would you know my name,
Cupid I'm called by gods above,
By men below, the power of love.
The power in men and gods inspires
All tender thoughts and amorous fires;
Above, when minded to be great,
In Venus' court I keep my state.
Venus my mother, queen of love,
Whom yet I no more fear than Jove,
Jove often turned, to shew my power,
To bull, or swan, to flame, or flower.
Below, when weary of the skies,
I keep incog, in Cloe's eyes;
Whence all my private pranks I play,
And wound a thousand hearts a day.
A thousand -- ay as many hearts,
As she has looks, or I have darts:
But fare you well, for now I know,
Safe is my dart, safe is my bow.
Happy for you, could you but say,
Your heart was half as safe as they."





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