Verse > Anthologies > Fuess and Stearns, eds. > The Little Book of Society Verse
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Fuess and Stearns, comps.  The Little Book of Society Verse.  1922.
 
Cupid Mistaken
By Matthew Prior
 
AS after noon, one summer’s day,
  Venus stood bathing in a river;
Cupid a-shooting went that way,
  New strung his bow, new fill’d 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, could’st 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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