CUPID'S ARROW
Say, have you met her?
I can't forget her,
Fair as the lily, her name;
She with the eyes blue,
Of summer sides' hue,
With her the world I would gain.
'Twas on a May day—
Oh, such a gay day!
Sweet singing birds filled the trees;
Fair Spring went laughing
To the gay chaffing
Of her wayward love, the breeze.
I, too, was merry,
Heart light and airy,
Knew not I'd lose it that day;
Cupid was stirring,
His arrow whirring,
And my poor heart in the way.
She smiled so naively,
Glanced I so bravely,
Unthinking quite of the cost;
On that spring morning,
Done without warning,
I and my poor heart were lost.
'Twas a sweet losing;
Had I the choosing,
Gladly again she might take;
All I love dearest,
All I hold nearest,
Little would be for her sake.
Yet is the gladness
Mingled with sadness.
Did she but smile to betray?
Loving, I'm hoping,
In darkness groping,
Waiting her love to bring day.