Classic Poem

His mother dear Cupid offended late,
Because that Mars , grown slacker in her love,
With pricking shot he did not throughly move
To keep the pace of their first loving state.
The boy refused for fear of Mars 's hate,
Who threatened stripes if he his wrath did prove;
But she in chafe him from her lap did shove,
Brake bow, brake shafts, while Cupid weeping sate,
Till that his grandame Nature pitying it,
Of Stella 's brows made him two better bows,
And in her eyes of arrows infinite.
O how for joy he leaps, O how he crows,
And straight therewith, like wags new got to play,
Falls to shrewd turns, and I was in his way.