I dreamt by me I saw fair Venus stand,
Holding young Cupid in her lovely hand,
And said, Kind Shepherd, I a Scholar bring,
My little son, to learn of you to sing.
Then went away; and I to gain her praise,
Would fain have taught him all my rural lays,
How Pan found out the Pipe, Pallas the Flute,
Phoebus the Harp, and Mercury the Lute.
These were my subjects, which he still would slight,
And fill my ears with Love-Songs, day and night;
Of mortals, and of Gods, what tricks they us'd,
And how his mother Venus them abus'd.
So I forgot my pupil to improve,
And learn'd of him, by songs, the Art of Love.