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, cease the combat, I'll obey, Oh, mighty Love! I own thy sway. Cupid plann'd a new campaign, And bade me join his camp again; But I, grown weary of the trade, Like a rebel disobey'd. Straight the monarch, much displeased, His dreadful bow and quiver seized, And, wafted on his pinions light, Defied me to the field of fight. Then clad for war, like Peleus' son, A corslet bright I buckled on; With ample shield and quivering spear, I waited till the foe drew near. His bow-string twang'd—then seized with dread, My courage fail'd—I trembling fled. He plied his darts till all were spent; Nor did his anger then relent: Himself he changed into a dart, And shot like lightning through my heart.