Book XVI, 198: On the Same

Weep, thou wrong-headed god, with thy hands made fast beyond escape; weep bitterly, letting fall soul-consuming tears, scorner of chastity, thief of the mind, robber of the reason, Love, thou winged fire, thou unseen wound in the soul. Thy bands, O wrong-headed boy, are to mortals a release from complaint; remain fast bound, sending thy prayers to the deaf winds, and watch that torch that thou, eluding all vigilance, didst light in men’s hearts, being quenched now by thy tears.