THE SHAFT. Samuel Henley Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1136 K093079.003 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. III. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 p. 35. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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THE SHAFT . BY THE SAME . BY the side of the stream that strays thro' the grove , I met , in a ramble , the blithe God of Love ; His bow o'er his shoulder was carelessly ty'd , His quiver in negligence clanck'd at his side ; A handful of arrows he held to my view , Each wing'd with a feather of different hue . " This , fledg'd from the eagle , he smiling begun , " I aim at the heart that no dangers will shun ; " And this from the peacock , all gaudy array'd , " The breast of Sir Fopling is sure to invade . " When I aim at the prattler , who talks void of wit , " My shaft in the plume of a parrot will hit ; " And when I've a mind that the jealous should smart , " I pierce with an owl-feather'd arrow his heart . " For the youth , in whom truth and fondness reside , " From the breast of a dove my dart is supply'd : " This I value the most : — 'twas this that I found " From you , O my Delia , that gave me the wound . "