THE BLIND BOY

“I have no master,” said the Blind Boy,

“My mother,‘ Dame Venus’ they do call;

Cowled in this hood she sent me begging

For whate'er in pity may befall.

“Hard was her visage, me adjuring,—

‘ Have no fond mercy on the kind!

Here be sharp arrows, bunched in quiver,

Draw close ere striking — thou art blind.’

“So stand I here, my woes entreating,

In this dark alley, lest the Moon

Point with her sparkling my barbed armoury

Shine on my silver-lacèd shoon.

“Oh, sir, unkind this Dame to me-ward;

Of the salt billow was her birth...

In your sweet charity draw nearer

The saddest rogue on Earth!”