Classic Poem

THE Muses once, intent on play,
Young C UPID roving caught:
With flow'ry wreaths his hands confin'd,
And bound to Beauty brought.

Fond V ENUS ranges all the plain,
To seek her little joy:
And soon a pow'rful ransom brings,
To free th' imprison'd boy.

But tho' releas'd, the captive god
Refus'd to quit his chains:
And still to Beauty'S gentle sway
A willing slave remains.