The gods to show they joy not in offenses, Nor plague of human nature do desire, When they have made their rods and whipped our senses, They throw the rods themselves into the fire. Then Cupid, thou whom man hath made a god, Be like thy fellow gods in weight and fashion, And now my faults are punished, burn the rod In fires blown with many-headed passion. Thy rod is worth in Myra's beauty placed, Which like a sun hath power to burn another, And though itself can no affections taste, To be in all men else affection's mother; Therefore, if thou wilt prove thyself a god, In thy sweet fires, let me burn this fair rod. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 4. THE LOTTERY GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON HE RULETH NOT THROUGH HE RAIGNE OVER REALMES by THOMAS WYATT PENTUCKET [AUGUST 29, 1708] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER INSCRIPTIONS: 2. FOR A STATUE OF CHAUCER AT WOODSTOCK by MARK AKENSIDE OUT A-NUTTEN by WILLIAM BARNES |