• Oh foolish Cupid, why hast thou pierced mine heart with thine arrow?
    Know yea not of love's great folly and uneven temperament,
    For do not make me that wishful dreamer nor the idle schemer,
    Far too short a time is life to not waste upon thy whims and fancies.

    For I dare not squander love, in my heart I do embrace it,
    Oh that in which seeming, does come so seeping inside me,
    Into what blood that I may have left inside these seeming hollow veins.

    Upon me already is that weakness seen, for thou thus twist my words,
    And in my head put those notes of a siren's song, of a summer's day,
    Upon which our glorious morning dawn does thus awake the burning fire,
    For shame Cupid, for shame, pray let me rest from thy frivolous desire.

    Do yea think before thy bow does act, or is it all a game for thee?
    For one so young and naive cannot seemingly be altogether brazen,
    But be drowned in the virtous act of a seemingly eternal dance,
    And be forgotten in the endless flurry of emotion that is life.

    Must to thy notions lovers reasons run? For dearest Cupid,
    Thou art fairer than any and all mortal men upon the earth,
    With thy streams of golden hair and thy singing silver tongue,
    For who loves thee that so thus lets lovers love be free?

    If it twas my hand on thy bow and thy brazen arrow,
    I would give thee what thou hast such freely offered me,
    And wished not for a gentler life, but for one extatic,
    In all circumstances that grace this our single night and day.

    Oh for night and day, day and night, they bring and take our eternal plight,
    To levels of such extremeties that only ones like us can see,
    That freedom and bliss in the temperament of love's beauty,
    Is truely the only way to live one's life happily.