Explore "The Heart of Ice" by Oliver Herford on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Now whither are you flying / And on what game intent, / Cupid? There's no denying / On mischief you are bent.
What is the use of trying / To look so innocent?
What means your empty quiver? / Did heart of some coquette / Your golden arrows shiver? / Or did you, boy, upset / Your darts in Lethe's river, / Or break them in a pet?
What is it you're concealing, / My patience to annoy? / A heart you have been stealing, / Or some such foolish toy? / Come, now -- no double-dealing! / Out with it -- Cupid, boy!
"I have," quoth Cupid, shyly, / "A thing wherewith to hew / Cold hearts" (he hinted slyly / That such a heart I knew).
"Tis recommended highly -- / An ice-pick -- what say you?"
Gravely I shake my finger / At Cupid -- "Tis indeed / The very thing to bring her / To reason, boy, so speed! / Fly, Cupid! Do not linger -- / Jove grant you may succeed! "