Love and Mischief
One sunny day Love chose to stray
Adown a rosy path forbidden,
Where Mischief deep in ambush lay,
And watched his snare ’neath flowers hidden:
Love tumbling in, began to shout
For Mischief’s aid, lest he should smother:
“You little demon, let me out,
Or I’ll report you to my mother.”
Said Mischief, “I’ll not set you free
Unless you share your power with me,
And give of every heart you gain,
One-half to joy and half to pain.”
Love struggled, but in vain, alas!
He was not born to prove a martyr,
And, sad to tell! it came to pass
He gave in to the little Tartar.
Love flew to Venus in a pet,
And cried, when he had told his story:
“O, Queen of Beauty, never let
That little imp wear half my glory.”
The goddess with a look sedate,
Replied, “I cannot alter fate,
But you shall conquer still, my boy,
I’ll make love’s pain more sweet than joy.”
Zavarr Wilmshurst.