Tudor and Stuart Love Songs — John Hughes

DORINDA'S CONQUEST.

Fame of Dorinda's conquest brought The God of Love her charms to view;

To wound th' unwary maid he thought, But soon became her conquest too.

He dropp'd half-drawn his feeble bow, He look'd, he raved, and sighing pined;

And wish'd in vain he had been now, As painters falsely draw him, blind.

Disarm'd, he to his mother flies;

Help, Venus, help thy wretched son!

Who now will pay us sacrifice?

For Love himself's, alas!

undone.

To Cupid now no lover's prayer Shall be address'd in suppliant sighs;

My darts are gone, but, oh!

beware, Fond mortals, of Dorinda's eyes!

John Hughes.