Tis Known And Seen That Arrows Even Small Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

‘Tis known and seen that arrows even small
Shot and sped from bows their havoc tell
On the frail human flesh with gaping wounds
Like mouths reddened with wine at festivals
Wherein the rowdy drinkers in their bacchanals
While the whole night with speech and deed aloud:
Till the young Dawn ascending up the hill
To where they lie half-dreaming half-awake
Turns its soft steps and full tiptoes away
But when sweet Cupid his assailment made
Unto my fort instead of havoc there
My blood revived again as was in youth.