TO CUPID
Thou, who didst never see the light
Nor know'st the pleasure of the sight,
But always blinded, canst not say
Now it is night, or now 't is day:
So captivate her sense, so blind her eye,
That still she love me, yet she ne'er knew why.
Thou who dost wound us with such art,
We see no blood drop from the heart,
And, subtly cruel, leave no sign
To tell the blow or hand was thine:
O gently, gently wound my fair that she
May thence believe the wound did come from
thee!
Robert Herrick.
Thou, who didst never see the light
Nor know'st the pleasure of the sight,
But always blinded, canst not say
Now it is night, or now 't is day:
So captivate her sense, so blind her eye,
That still she love me, yet she ne'er knew why.
Thou who dost wound us with such art,
We see no blood drop from the heart,
And, subtly cruel, leave no sign
To tell the blow or hand was thine:
O gently, gently wound my fair that she
May thence believe the wound did come from
thee!
Robert Herrick.
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