Cupid at Court

Young Cupid strung his bow one day,
And sallied out for sport;
As country hearts were easy prey,
Odd Darts! he went to court.

Of all that wore the puff and patch,
Belinda led the fair:
With falbala, and fan to match,
I trow she made him stare!

“Oho!” he cried, and quickly drew
His bow upon the sly;—
But though he pierced her bosom through,
She never breathed a sigh!

This was a turn, beyond a doubt,
That filled him with amaze,
And so he sought his mother out,
With tear-bewildered gaze.

“You silly boy,” Dame Venus said,
“Why did you waste your art?
Go clip your curls and hide your head,—
Belinda has no heart!”

Samuel Minturn Peck.