BEHIND her neck her comely tresses tied, Her ivory quiver graceful by her side, A-hunting Cloe went. She lost her way, And through the woods uncertain chanced to stray. Apollo passing by beheld the maid; And, Sister dear, bright Cynthia, turn, he said; The hunted hind lies close in yonder brake. Loud Cupid laughed, to see the god's mistake; And laughing, cried, Learn better, great divine, To know thy kindred, and to honour mine. Rightly advised, far hence thy sister seek, Or on Meander's bank, or Latmos' peak. But in this nymph, my friend, my sister know: She draws my arrows, and she bends my bow: Fair Thames she haunts, and every neighbouring grove, Sacred to soft recess, and gentle love. Go, with thy Cynthia, hurl the pointed spear At the rough boar, or chase the flying deer; I and my Cloe take a nobler aim: At human hearts we fling, nor ever miss the game. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SETTING SAIL by EMILY DICKINSON SHE HEARS THE STORM by THOMAS HARDY MADISON CAWEIN by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON ECLOGUE: THE COMMON A-TOOK IN by WILLIAM BARNES TO HIS MISTRESS by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE WOLF AND SHEPHERDS; A FABLE by JAMES BEATTIE EARTH TO EARTH by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY |