CUPID, playing blind man's buff, Seized my Psyche's floating tresses. Here is silken clue enough To dispense with any guesses. This is Psyche's golden fleece: She's my prisoner, past release. But the lookers-on declare Love was caught in Psyche's hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EGERTON MANUSCRIPT: 102 by THOMAS WYATT THE PHILOSOPHER by EMILY JANE BRONTE A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 5. HIS DISCOURSE WITH CUPID by BEN JONSON SONG OF A SECOND APRIL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SIT DOWN SAD SOUL by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER OLD KING COLE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON IDYLLS OF THE KING: GERAINT AND ENID by ALFRED TENNYSON |