Venus and Cupid

Cupid, my darling Cupid, and my Joy,
Thy Mother Venus calls, come away, come away.

Cupid.

Alas! I cannot, I am at Play.

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.

Alas! what would you have me do?
Command and I’ll Obedience shew.

Venus.

Hye then to Cities and to Court,
Where all the Young and Fair resort;
There try thy Power, let fly thy Darts,
And bring me in some noble Hearts,
Worthy to be by thee undone,
For here’s no Glory to be won.

Cupid.

Mistaken Queen, look down and see,
What Trophies are prepar’d for thee,
What glorious Slaves are destin’d me.

Venus.

Now, by my self, a Noble Throng;
How Fair the Nymphs, the Swains how Young!
No wonder if my little Loves
Delight and play in Shades and Groves.

Cupid.

Then, Mother, here I’ll bend my Bow,
And bring you wounded Hearts enough.

Venus.

My pretty Charming Wanton, do.

Chorus.

‘Tis thus we over Mortals reign,
And thus we Adoration gain
From the proud Monarch to the humble Swain.