CUPID, playing blind man's buff, Seized my Psyche's floating tresses. Here is silken clue enough To dispense with any guesses. This is Psyche's golden fleece: She's my prisoner, past release. But the lookers-on declare Love was caught in Psyche's hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 8. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY by JOHN MILTON THE PRETTY MILKMAID by MOTHER GOOSE VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR THE GRAPE-VINE SWING by WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS STELLA'S BIRTHDAY, 1725 by JONATHAN SWIFT TO S.M., A YOUNG AFRICAN PAINTER, ON SEEING HIS WORKS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. ADVICE TO THE STOUT by JOHN ARMSTRONG |