Cupid

Love, like a beggar came to me

With hose and doublet torn;

His shirt bedangling from his knee,

With hat and shoes outworn.

He asked an alms; I gave him bread,

And meat too for his need,

Of which, when he had fully fed,

He wished me all good speed.

Away he went, but as he turned,

In faith I know not how,

He touched me so, as that I burned

And am tormented now.

Love's silent flames and fires obscure

Then crept into my heart;

And though I saw no bow, I'm sure

His finger was the dart.