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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
Cupid Mistaken
By Matthew Prior (1664–1721)
 
AS after noon, one summer’s day,
  Venus stood bathing in a river,
Cupid a-shooting went that way,
  New strung his bow, new filled his quiver.
 
With skill he chose his sharpest dart,        5
  With all his might his bow he drew;
Swift to his beauteous parent’s heart
  The too well guided arrow flew.
 
I faint! I die! the goddess cried;
  O cruel, couldst thou find none other        10
To wreck thy spleen on? Parricide!
  Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother.
 
Poor Cupid, sobbing, scarce could speak:
  Indeed, mamma, I did not know ye;
Alas! how easy my mistake,—        15
  I took you for your likeness Chloe.
 
 
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