Prone, On My Couch I Calmly Slept Against My Wont. A Little Child Awoke Me As He Gently Crept And Beat My Door. A Tempest Wild Was Raging-Dark And Cold The Night. "Have Pity On My Naked Plight," He Begged, "And Ope Thy Door." - "Thy Name?" I Asked Admitting Him. - "The Same "Anon I'll Tell, But First Must Dry "My Weary Limbs, Then Let Me Try "My Mois'Ened Bow." - Despite My Fear The Hearth I Lit, Then Drew Me Near My Guest, And Chafed His Fingers Cold. "Why Fear?" I Thought. "Let Me Be Bold "No Polyphemus He; What Harm "In Such A Child? - Then I'll Be Calm!" The Playful Boy Drew Out A Dart, Shook His Fair Locks, And To My Heart His Shaft He Launch'D. - "Love Is My Name," He Thankless Cried, "I Hither Came "To Tame Thee. In Thine Ardent Pain "Of Cupid Think And Young Climene." - "Ah! Now I Know Thee, Little Scamp, "Ungrateful, Cruel Boy! Decamp!" Cupid A Saucy Caper Cut, Skipped Through The Door, And As It Shut, "My Bow," He Taunting Cried, "Is Sound, "Thy Heart, Poor Comrade, Feels The Wound."