I slept when Venus enter'd: to my bed <br />A Cupid in her beauteous hand she led, <br />A bashful seeming boy, and thus she said: <br />'Shepherd, receive my little one! I bring <br />An untaught love, whom thou must teach to sing.' <br />She said, and left him. I, suspecting nought, <br />Many a sweet strain my subtle pupil taught, <br />How reed to reed Pan first with osier bound, <br />How Pallas form'd the pipe of softest sound, <br />How Hermes gave the lute, and how the quire <br />Of Phoebus owe to Phoebus' self the lyre. <br />Such were my themes; my themes nought heeded he <br />But ditties sang of amorous sort to me. <br />The pangs that mortals and immortals prove <br />From Venus' influence and the darts of love. <br />Thus was the teacher by the pupil taught; <br />His lessons I retain'd, he mine forgot.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-moschus/
