Cupid and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses; Cupid paid. He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows, Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how); With these the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin, All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes; She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 41 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE PORTRAIT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON IN TEMPTATION by CHARLES WESLEY THE WITHERED ROSE by PHILIP AYRES |