1.
Whither so gladly and so fast,
As if you knew all danger past
Of combat, and of war?
As you believed my arms were bound,
Or when I shoot, still every wound
I make is but a fear.
2.
Arm now your breasts with shields of steel,
And plates of brass, yet you shall feel
My arrows are so keen;
Like lightning that not hurts the skin,
Yet melts tbe solid parts within,
They’ll wound although unseen.
3.
My mother taught me long ago,
To aim my shafts, and draw my bow
When Mars she did subdue.
And now you must resign to love
Your warlike hearts, that she may prove
Those antique stories true.