To the Sun-king came Venus’s dove,
And then, from the bushes, upstarting,
Soared into a cloudlet above.
Then came from his bow swiftly darting
An arrow—the arrow of Love.
With the pain King Phœbus was sobbing,
When Venus came by with her balms,
And eased the Sun-king of his throbbing,
As he lay in her beautiful arms;
The wound of its pain quickly robbing;