That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, <> Flying between the cold moon and the earth, <> Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took <> At a fair vestal throned by the west, <> And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, <> As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts; <> But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft <> Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, <> And the imperial votaress passed on, <> In maiden meditation, fancy-free. <> \