Cupid Conjured <br /> <br />Thou purblind boy, since thou hast been so slack <br />To wound her heart, whose eyes have wounded me, <br />And suffer'd her to glory in my wrack, <br />Thus to my aid I lastly conjure thee: <br />By hellish Styx, by which the Thund'rer swears, <br />By thy fair mother's unavoided power, <br />By Hecate's names, by Proserpine's sad tears <br />When she was rapt to the infernal bower, <br />By thine own loved Psyche, by the fires <br />Spent on thine alters flaming up to heav'n, <br />By all true lovers' sighs, vows, and desires, <br />By all the wounds that ever thou hast giv'n: <br />I conjure thee by all that I have nam'd <br />To make her love, or, Cupid, be thou damn'd.<br /><br />Michael Drayton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxvi-thou-purblind-boy/
