The Parthian Archer. 1666

WELL hit, small Don! I'le now protest
That one-ey'd Marks-men aim the best.
Thy piercing Charge none can withstand,
When guided by a Ladie's hand.
S'attractive, and so fair a Mark,
A man might hit, tho in the dark.
Such a white pair of Butts ev'n wo'd
Make all men shoot, like Robin Hood;
Whose steady aim such credit got,
It never mist to cleave the Mott.
All would with David's Slingers dare,
Amd aim their stones to hit the Hair.
Sharp Spanish Pike! that can prevail
To wound her through the double Mail
Of Coats and Smock! when Cupid's Cannon
(Mounted on wheels that it does stand on)
Thunders in vain on that design,
And's forc'd at last to undermine.

Sure Cupid, thirsting for such drink,
Approach'd so near the Fountain's brink;
And pierc'd that Butt whence he did know
Rich Nectar, tunn'd up there, would flow.
The waving Needle here does fix,
And steady against her North-star sticks.
Hence that Magnetick power does come;
No Loadstone to a Lady's Bumm.