Another Imitation Of Anacreon

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."