Cupid and my Campaspe played <br />At cards for kisses; <br />Cupid paid. <br />He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, <br />His mother's doves and team of sparrows, <br />Loses them too; then down he throws <br />The coral of his lip, the rose <br />Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), <br />With these the crystal of his brow, <br />And then the dimple of his chin: <br />All these did my Campaspe win. <br />At last he set her both his eyes; <br />She won, and Cupid blind did rise. <br />O Love! has she done this to thee? <br />What shall, alas, become of me?<br /><br />John Lyly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cupid-and-my-campaspe/
