Ballad X: Cupid's Pastime
It chanc'd of late a shepherd swain,That went to seek his straying sheep,Within a thicket on a plainEspied a dainty nymph asleep.
Her golden hair o'erspred her face;Her careless arms abroad were cast;Her quiver had her pillows place;Her breast lay bare to every blast.
The shepherd stood and gaz'd his fill;Nought durst he do; nought durst he say;Whilst chance, or else perhaps his will,Did guide the god of love that way.
The crafty boy that sees her sleep,Whom if she wak'd he durst not see;Behind her closely seeks to creep,Before her nap should ended bee.
There come, he steals her shafts away,And puts his own into their place;Nor dares he any longer stay,But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace.
Scarce was he gone, but she awakes,And spies the shepherd standing by:Her bended bow in haste she takes,And at the simple swain lets flye.
Forth flew the shaft, and pierc'd his heart,That to the ground he fell with pain:Yet up again forthwith he start,And to the nymph he ran amain.
Amazed to see so strange a sight,She shot, and shot, but all in vain;The more his wounds, the more his mightLove yielded strength amidst his pain.
Her angry eyes were great with tears,She blames her hand, she blames her skill;The bluntness of her shafts she fears,And try them on herself she will.
Take heed, sweet nymph, trye not thy shaft,Each little touch will pierce thy heart:Alas! thou know'st not Cupids craft;Revenge is joy; the end is smart.
Yet try she will, and pierce some bare;Her hands were glov'd, but next to handWas that fair breast, that breast so rare,That made the shepherd senseless stand.
That breast she pierc'd; and through that breastLove found an entry to her heart;At feeling of this new-come guest,Lord! how this gentle nymph did start?
She runs not now; she shoots no more;Away she throws both shaft and bow:She seeks for what she shunn'd before,She thinks the shepherds haste too slow.
Though mountains meet not, lovers may:What other lovers do, did they:The god of love sate on a tree,And laught that pleasant sight to see.
Words in this poem
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- dainty n.
- Value; estimation; the gratification or pleasure taken in anything. [OE. deinie, dainte, deintie, deyntee, OF. deintié delicacy, orig., dignity, honor, fr. L. dignitas, fr. dignus worthy. See Deign, and cf. Dignity.]
- apace adv.
- With a quick pace; quick; fast; speedily. [Pref. a- + pace. OE. a pas at a walk, in which a is the article. See Pace.]
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- forthwith adv.
- Immediately; without delay; directly.
- amain adv.
- With might; with full force; vigorously; violently; exceedingly. [Pref. a- + main. See 2d Main, n.]
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- angry a.
- Troublesome; vexatious; rigorous. [See Anger.]
- bluntness n.
- Want of edge or point; dullness; obtuseness; want of sharpness.
- craft n.
- Strength; might; secret power. [AS. cr strength, skill, art, cunning; akin to OS., G., Sw., & Dan. kraft strength, D. kracht, Icel. kraptr; perh. originally, a drawing together, stretching, fr]
- sate v. t.
- To satisfy the desire or appetite of; to satiate; to glut; to surfeit. [Probably shortened fr. satiate: cf. L. satus full. See Satiate.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Ballad X: Cupid's Pastime is in the public domain. This text is taken from Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, Volume 1 (of 3) Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs and Other Pieces of Our Earlier Poets Together With Some Few of Later Date, Project Gutenberg ebook #45939; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Thomas Percy, Ballad X: Cupid's Pastime, in Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, Volume I (1765), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #45939, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/percy-reliques/ballad-x-cupid-s-pastime.html, id L08556.
Form and metre
Ballad X: Cupid's Pastime is 56 lines in 14 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 12 of its 14 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAB swainA · sheepB · plainA · asleepB
- 2 ABAB faceA · castB · placeA · blastB
- 3 ABAB fillA · sayB · willA · wayB
- 4 ABAB sleepA · seeB · creepA · beeB
- 5 ABAB awayA · placeB · stayA · apaceB
- 6 -A-A awakes · byA · takes · flyeA
- 7 ABAB heartA · painB · startA · amainB
- 8 ABAB sightA · vainB · mightA · painB
- 9 ABAB tearsA · skillB · fearsA · willB
- 10 ABAB shaftA · heartB · craftA · smartB
- 11 ABAB bareA · handB · rareA · standB
- 12 ABAB breastA · heartB · guestA · startB
- 13 ABAB moreA · bowB · beforeA · slowB
- 14 AABB mayA · theyA · treeB · seeB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| It chanc'd of late a shepherd swain, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That went to seek his straying sheep, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Within a thicket on a plain | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Espied a dainty nymph asleep. | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| Her golden hair o'erspred her face; | 8 | ·/˘··˘·· |
| Her careless arms abroad were cast; | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| Her quiver had her pillows place; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Her breast lay bare to every blast. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The shepherd stood and gaz'd his fill; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Nought durst he do; nought durst he say; | 8 | ········ |
| Whilst chance, or else perhaps his will, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Did guide the god of love that way. | 8 | ········ |
| The crafty boy that sees her sleep, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Whom if she wak'd he durst not see; | 8 | ········ |
| Behind her closely seeks to creep, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Before her nap should ended bee. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| There come, he steals her shafts away, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And puts his own into their place; | 8 | ········ |
| Nor dares he any longer stay, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Scarce was he gone, but she awakes, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| And spies the shepherd standing by: | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Her bended bow in haste she takes, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And at the simple swain lets flye. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Forth flew the shaft, and pierc'd his heart, | 8 | ········ |
| That to the ground he fell with pain: | 8 | ········ |
| Yet up again forthwith he start, | 8 | ··˘///·· |
| And to the nymph he ran amain. | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Amazed to see so strange a sight, | 8 | ˘/······ |
| She shot, and shot, but all in vain; | 8 | ········ |
| The more his wounds, the more his might | 8 | ········ |
| Love yielded strength amidst his pain. | 8 | ·/˘·˘/·· |
| Her angry eyes were great with tears, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| She blames her hand, she blames her skill; | 8 | ········ |
| The bluntness of her shafts she fears, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And try them on herself she will. | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Take heed, sweet nymph, trye not thy shaft, | 8 | ········ |
| Each little touch will pierce thy heart: | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Alas! thou know'st not Cupids craft; | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| Revenge is joy; the end is smart. | 8 | ˘/······ |
| Yet try she will, and pierce some bare; | 8 | ········ |
| Her hands were glov'd, but next to hand | 8 | ········ |
| Was that fair breast, that breast so rare, | 8 | ········ |
| That made the shepherd senseless stand. | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| That breast she pierc'd; and through that breast | 8 | ········ |
| Love found an entry to her heart; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| At feeling of this new-come guest, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Lord! how this gentle nymph did start? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| She runs not now; she shoots no more; | 8 | ········ |
| Away she throws both shaft and bow: | 8 | ˘/······ |
| She seeks for what she shunn'd before, | 8 | ········ |
| She thinks the shepherds haste too slow. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Though mountains meet not, lovers may: | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| What other lovers do, did they: | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| The god of love sate on a tree, | 8 | ········ |
| And laught that pleasant sight to see. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
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