Here you will find the Poem Cupid Abroad Was Lated of poet Robert Greene
CUPID abroad was lated in the night, His wings were wet with ranging in the rain; Harbor he sought, to me he took his flight To dry his plumes. I heard the boy complain: I oped the door and granted his desire, I rose myself, and made the wag a fire. Looking more narrow by the fire's flame, I spied his quiver hanging by his back. Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame, I would have gone, for fear of further wrack; But what I drad did me, poor wretch, betide, For forth he drew an arrow from his side. He pierced the quick, and I began to start, A pleasing wound but that it was too high; His shaft procured a sharp yet sugared smart. Away he flew, for why is wings were dry; But left the arrow sticking in my breast, That sore I grieved I welcomed such a guest.
