Author Richard Henry Wilde Written in Mrs. I — — — 's Album beneath the figure of Cupid sharpening arrows Fortune . Cupid! you rogue, what sharpening darts! Pray are they tipped with Gold or Lead? Cupid . How can you ask? You know men's hearts I aim at them and not the head! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments