Cupid and my Campaspe play'd <br /> At cards for kisses--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-play-d/
