Tales and novels of Jean de La Fontaine

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.”


Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:57