Classic Poem

Cupid, in a bed of roses
Sleeping, chancid to be stung
Of a bee that lay among
The flowers where he himself reposes;
And thus to his mother weeping
Told that he this wound did take
Of a little wingid snake,
As he lay securely sleeping.
Cytherea smiling said
That " if so great sorrow spring
From a silly bee's weak sting
As should make thee thus dismayed,
What anguish feel they, think'st thou, and what pain,
Whom thy empoisoned arrows cause complain?"