The Muses frolicksom and gay
Caught Cupid as he sleeping lay;
With Myrtle Twigs his Hands they ty'd,
And laid him by Cleora's Side.
She stroak'd his Cheeks and often prest
The wanton Archer to her Breast;
Then loos'd his Hands--You're free, she said,
Yet he refus'd to leave the Maid.
In vain his Mother hunts about,
Offers Rewards to find him out;
In vain would set the Captive free,
He's pleas'd with such a Slavery.
Close by her Side he watching lies;
The Wretch who sees Cleora dies.