A Book of old English love songs . UPID abroad was lated in the night,His wings were wet with rangingin the rain;Harbour he sought: to me he tookhis flight To dry his plumes. I heard the boy-complain ; I oped the door, and granted hisdesire; I rose myself, and made the wag afire. Looking more narrow, by the fires flame,I spied his quiver hanging by his back;Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame,I would have gone, for fear of furtherwrack;But what I dread, did me, poor wretch, betide,For forth he drew an arrow from his side. [21] CupiD abroad teas? late* in tlje nigt)t He pierced the quick
A Book of old English love songs . UPID abroad was lated in the night,His wings were wet with rangingin the rain;Harbour he sought: to me he tookhis flight To dry his plumes. I heard the boy-complain ; I oped the door, and granted hisdesire; I rose myself, and made the wag afire. Looking more narrow, by the fires flame,I spied his quiver hanging by his back;Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame,I would have gone, for fear of furtherwrack;But what I dread, did me, poor wretch, betide,For forth he drew an arrow from his side. [21] CupiD abroad teas? late* in tlje nigt)t He pierced the quick, and I began to start: A pleasing wound, but that it was too high; His shaft procured a sharp, yet sugared smart. Away he flew, for why, his wings were dry ; And left the arrow sticking in my breast, That sore I grieved I welcomed such a guest. — Robert Greene.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1897
