Cupid and Plutus When Celia, love's eternal foe, To rich old Gomez first was married; And angry Cupid came to know His shafts had err'd, his bow miscarried; He sigh'd, he wept, he hung his head, On the cold ground, full sad, he laid him; When Plutus, there by fortune led, In this desponding plight survey'd him. "And sure," he cried, "you'll own at last Your boasted power by mine exceeded: Say, wretched boy, now all is past, How little she your efforts heeded. "If with success you would assail, Gild, youngster, doubly gild your arrows: Little the feather'd shafts avail, Though wing'd from mamma's doves and sparrows. "What though each reed, each arrow grew, Where Venus bathed herself; depend on't, 'Twere more for use, for beauty too, A diamond sparkled at the end on't." "Peace, Plutus, peace!"—the boy replied; "Were not my arts by yours infested, I could each other power deride, And rule this circle unmolested. "See yonder pair! no worldly views In Chloe's generous breast resided: Love bade her the spruce valet choose, And she by potent love was guided. "For this, she quits her golden dreams, In her gilt coach no more she ranges: And her rich crimson, bright with gems, For cheeks impearl'd with tears, she changes. "Though sordid Celia own'd your power, Think not so monstrous my disgrace is: You gain'd this nymph—that very hour I gain'd a score in different places." |
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