In Cupid's court

by Unknown

THE TRIUMPH OF CUPID

He came in busy hours—

My holidays are few—

He brought the scent of flowers,

And whispered, dear, of you.

I vowed that I would flay him,

And scourge him out of sight;

Nay more, I vowed to slay him,

The mischief-making sprite.

I gave him caustic chiding,

Let fly a poisoned dart.

Presto! the lad was hiding

Safely within my heart!

There all day long he chatters

Of some one’s charm and grace;

Till nothing really matters

Except to see your face.

I would I had not chidden,

Nor tried the sprite to kill;

For in my heart safe hidden,

He works his wayward will.

Geraldine Meyrick.