[GILDON'S MISCELLANY, 1692.]
VENUS and CUPID.
Venus.
Cupid, my darling Cupid, and my Joy,
Thy Mother Venus calls, come away, come away.
Cupid.
Venus.
Fond Boy, I do command thee, haste;
Thy precious Hours no longer waste:
In Groves and Cottages you make abode,
Too mean a Condescention for a God!
On barren Mountains idly play,
For shame thou Wanton, come away, come away!
All useless lies thy Bow and Darts,
That should be wounding heedless Hearts:
The Swain that guards his Dove,
Alas! no Leisure has for Love:
His Flocks and Heards are all his Joy,
Then leave the Shades and come away, come away.
Cupid.