Poems, &c. By James Shirley.

Cupid ungodded.

WHy how now Cupid, grown so wild? So great a Tyrant, and a Child? What wert thou but an empty shade, Until our superstition made Thee first a God? Blind, young, to be A soft and harmeles Deitie. Our Fancy gave thee that rich pair Of Wings, to wanton in the ayre: Thy gaudy Quiver, and thy Bow, And golden shafts we did bestow, But for no other exercise Then to kill Bees, or Butterflies.

But since thou hast employ'd thy darts Onely to wound thy Makers hearts, And that thy wings serve but to flie From Lovers, when they bleeding die; Thy Blindnesse us'd but to invite Our pitty, till we lose our sight, Thy weaknes, not through want of yeers, But from the Surfet of our Tears; Stoop to the Justice of thy fate, We can unmake that did create.

And first give back (ingrateful Thing) To us that made thy glorious wing

Those painted feathers thou shalt find Contemnd, and tost by every wind, Till wandring in some night, they are The mark of a prodigious star, And blasted; these the world shall name The spotted wings of evil fame: Next, give thy arrows back, which we Did mean for Love, not Cruelty. That rich enamell'd bow is mine, Come, that gay quiver too resigne, And shining Belt; These will I burne, And keep their ashes in some urne, Till open'd on that solemn day, When men to souls sad requiems pay: Lovers shall curse, and sigh, and make A new Letany for thy sake.

But thou art still alive; and be; To murder, were to pitie thee. Know wretch, thou shalt not die, before I see thee begging at some dore: And taken for a Vagrant stript, Then by a furious Beadle whipt, No more with Roses, but with Thorn: To all the world thus made a scorn, Ile give thee Eyes before we part, To see thy shame, and breake thy heart.