His mother dear Cupid offended late, <br />Because that Mars grown slacker in her love, <br />With pricking shot he did not throughly more <br />To keep the pace of their first loving state. <br /> <br />The boy refus'd for fear of Mars's hate, <br />Who threaten'd stripes, if he his wrath did prove: <br />But she in chafe him from her lap did shove, <br />Brake bow, brake shafts, while Cupid weeping sate: <br /> <br />Till that his grandame Nature pityijng it <br />Of stella's brows make him two better bows, <br />And in her eyes of arrows infinite. <br /> <br />Oh how for joy he leaps, oh how he crows, <br />And straight therewith like wags new got to play, <br />Falls to shrewd turns, and I was in his way.<br /><br />Sir Philip Sidney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xvii-his-mother-dear-cupid/
