Amyntor

Long had Amyntor free from Love remain'd, The God enrag'd to see his pow'r disdain'd, Bent his best bow, and aiming at his breast The fatal shaft, he thus the Swain addrest.

Hear me, hear me senseless Rover, Soon thou now shallt be a Lover, Cupid will his pow'r maintain; Haughty Delia shall enslave thee, Thou who thus insulting brav'st me, Shalt unpity'd drag the chain.

He ceas'd, and quick he shot the pointed dart, Far short it fell, nor reach'd Amyntor's heart; The angry God was fill'd with vast surprize, Abash'd he stood, while thus the Swain replies.

Think not, Cupid, vain Deceiver, I will own thy power ever, Guarded from thy arts by Wine; Haughty Beauty ne'er shall grieve me, Bacchus still shall e'er relieve me, All his rosy joys are mine; All his rosy joys are mine.