Cupid’S Failure

Cupid, one day, in idle quest, Fitted a dainty dart And aimed it at Priscilla’s breast, To strike Priscilla’s heart.

Clean through it went, no heart was there; Said Cupid, “I believe Priscilla’s just the girl to wear Her heart upon her sleeve.”

But there, alack! it was not found; “Aha!” cried Cupid, “note Her frightened air; now I’ll be bound Her heart is in her throat.”

Failure again. On slender chance He one more arrow shoots; Assuming from her downcast glance, Her heart is in her boots.

Foiled, Cupid threw aside his bow; “She has no heart,” said he. (He did not know that long ago She gave her heart to me.)