As Jove held above a council of late,
Fair Venus was call'd to the chair;
Young Cupid was lost, and the charge laid to fate,
By old Vulcan's too lovely fair.

In vain he took oath, he flew from his arms,
One moment when absent in thought;
The goddess too conscious of pow'r and charms,
Swore Fate should to judgment be brought.

“Forbear,” cry'd Pallas, who rose to decide,
And waving her wand o'er the earth,
“Venus stands culprit, herself's to be try'd;
“For see where young Love has took birth.”

She pointed to Britain her fav'rite isle,
Where Beauty with Venus dares vie;
And fixing on D EVON , said with a smile,
“See where the fond urchin doth lie.

“In Virtue's soft bosom th' infant has slept,
“Ah, Venus, acknowledge your crime:
“Unjust you have charg'd old Fate with a theft;
“Which now plainly proves to be thine.”

Her blushes vermillion'd th' lily's white hue,
And her fault so sweetly confess'd;
That Cupid from earth flew to heav'n to sue
A pardon—for having transgress'd.

Jove check'd th' young God for his wanton career,
And smiling, thus clos'd the debate;
“Since Earth encourages Love from his sphere,
“Ah, Venus complain not of Fate.”