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Hereunto is annexed Cupids Conflict together with the Philosophers Devotion: and a particular Interpretation appertaining to the three last Books of the Song of the Soul. Thomas Campbell : "His versification, though pther tells us that he ot won to the Muses in his childhood by the melody of Spenser, is but a faint echo of the Spenserian tune. In fancy he is dark and lethargic. Yet his Psychozoia is not a common-place production: a certain solemnity and earnestness in his tone leaves the impression that he "believed the magic wonders which he sung" [ William Collins ]. His poetry is not, indeed, like a beautiful landscape on which the eye Cupirs repose, but may be compared to some curious grotto, whose gloomy labyrinths we might be curious to explore for the strange and mystic associations they excite" Specimens of the British Poets ;

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My way all other more slippery then ice My attendants, anger, pride, and jealousies. Unthankfull then to God I should neglect All the whole world for one poore sorry wight, Whose pestilent eye into my heart project Would burn like poysonous Comet in my spright. Aye me! Who seeks for pleasure in this mortall life By diving deep into the body base Shall loose true pleasure: But who gainly strive Their sinking soul above this bulk to place Enlarg'd delight they certainly shall find, Unbounded joyes to fill their boundlesse mind.

When I my self from mine own self do quit And each thing else; then an all spreaden love To the vast Universe my soul doth fit, Makes me half equall to All-seeing Jove. My mightie wings high stretch'd then clapping light I brush the starres and make them shine more bright. Then all the works of God with close embrace I today hug in my enlarged arms, All the hid paths of heavenly Love I trace And boldly listen to his secret charms, Then clearly cupid I where true light doth rise, And where eternall Night low-pressed lies.

Thus lose I not by leaving small delight But gain more joy, while I my self suspend From this and that; for then with all unite I all enjoy, and love that love commends, That all is more then loves abs partiall soul Whose petty love the impartiall fates controll. Ah son! Had I once lanc'd thy froward flinty heart And cruddled bloud had thawn with living fire And pricks thy drousie sprite with gentle smart How wouldst thou wake to kindle sweet desire!

Thy soul fill'd up with overflowing pleasures Would dew thy lips with honey dropping measures. Then would thou caroll loud and sweetly sing In honour of my sacred Deity That all the woods and hollow hills would ring Reechoning thy heavenly harmony. And eke the hardy rocks with full rebounds Would faithfully return thy silver sounds.

Cupid's corner - main st, canmore, ab

Next Cupics me would be thy Mistresse fair, Whom thou might setten out with goodly skill Her peerlesse beauty and her virtues rare, That all would wonder at thy gracefull quill. And lastly in us both thy self Cupiss raise And crown thy temples with immortall bayes. But now thy riddles all men do neglect, Thy rugged lines of all do ly forlorn. Unwelcome rhymes that rudely do detect The Readers ignorance. Men holden scorn To be so often non-plus'd or to spell, And on one stanza a whole age to dwell.

Besides this harsh and hard obscurity Of the hid sense, thy words are barbarous And strangely new, and yet too frequently Return, as usuall plain and obvious, So that the show of the new thick-set patch Marres all the old with which Cpuids ill doth match. But if thy haughty mind, forsooth Cupods deign To stoop so low as t' hearken to my lore, Then wouldst thou with trim lovers not disdeign To adorn th' outside, set the best before. Nor rub nor wrinkle would thy verses spoil, Thy rhymes should run as glib and smooth as oyl.

If that be all, said I, thy reasons slight Can never move my well establish'd mind. Full well I Cupkds alwayes the present sprite, Or life that doth possesse the soul, doth blind, Shutting the windows 'gainst broad open day Lest fairer sights its uglinesse bewray. The soul then loves that disposition best Because no better comes unto her view.

Cupid's corner

The drunkard drunkennesse, the sluggard rest, Th' Ambitious honour and kther due. So all the rest do love their vices base 'Cause virtues beauty comes not into place. And looser love 'gainst Chastity divine Would shut the door that he might sit alone. Then wholly should my mind to him incline, And woxen strait, since larger love was gone That paultry spirit of low contracting lust Would fit my soul as if 't were made for 't just.

Then should I with my fellow bird or brute So strangely metamorphiz'd, either ney Or bellow loud: or if't may better sute Chirp out my joy pearch'd upon higher spray.

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My passions fond with impudence rehearse, Immortalize my toady in a verse. This is the summe of thy deceiving boast That I vain ludenesse highly should admire, When I the sense of better things have lost And chang'd my heavenly heat for hellish fire. Passion is blind: but virtues piercing eye Approaching danger can from farre espie. And what thou dost Pedantickly object Concerning my rude rugged uncouth tlday, As childish toy I manfully neglect, And at thy hidden snares do inly smile.

How ill alas! My thought's the fittest measure of my tongue, Wherefore I'll use what's most ificant, And rather then qbs inward meaning wrong Or my full-shining notion trimly skant, I'll conjure up old words out of their grave, Or call fresh forrein force in if need crave. And these attending on my moving mind Shall duly usher in the fitting sense, As oft as meet occasion I find.

Emme's cupids

Unusuall words oft used give lesse offence; Nor will the old contexture dim or marre, For often us'd they're next to old, thred-bare. And if the Cupidss seem in too rusty hew Then frequent rubbing makes them shine like gold, And glister all with colour gayly new, Wherefore ans use them both we will be bold. Thus lifts me fondly with fond folk to toy, And answer fools with equall foolery. The meaner mind works with more nicetie As Spiders wont to weave their idle web, But braver spirits do all things gallantly Of lesser failings nought at all affred: So Natures carelesse pencill dipt in light With sprinkled starres hath spattered the Night.

And if my notions clear though rudely thrown And loosely scattered in my poesie, May lend men light till the dead Night be gone. And Morning fresh with roses strew the sky: It is enough, I meant no trimmer frame Nor by nice needle-work to seek a name, Vain man!

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Thrice happy he whose name is writ above, And doeth good though gaining infamy; Requiteth evil turns with hearty love And recks not what befalls him outwardly: Whose worth is in himself, and onely blisse In his pure conscience that doth nought amisse. Who placeth pleasure in his purged soul And virtuous life his treasure doth esteem Who can his passions master and controll, And that true lordly manlinesse doth deem Who from this world himself hath clearly quit, Counts nought his own but what lives in his sprite.

So when his spright from this vain world shall flit It bears all with it whatsoever was dear Unto it self, passing in easie fit, As kindly ripen'd corn comes out of th' ear. Thus mindlesse of what idle men will say He takes his own and stilly goes his way.

For death will strip them of that glorious plume, That airie blisse will vanish into fume, For can their carefull ghosts from Limbo Lake Return, or listen from the bowed skie To heare how well their learned lines do take? Or if they could; is Heavens felicitie So small as by mans praise to be encreas'd Hells pain no greater then hence to be eas'd?

Gift now, deliver later

Therefore once dead in vain shall I transmit My shadow to gazing Posterity; Cast farre behind me I shall never see't, On Heavens fair Sunne having fast fixt mine eye. Nor while I live, heed I what man doth praise Or underprize mine unaffected layes. What moves thee then, said he, to take the pains And spender time if thou contemn'st the fruit?

Sweet fruit of fame, that fills the Poets brains With high conceit and feeds his fainting wit, How today 'tis in honour here to live And dead, thy name for ever to survive! Or is thy abject mind so basely bent As of thy Muse to maken Merchandize? Cu;ids cupid I wote this is no strange intent. Foul shame on him, quoth I, that shamefull thought Doth entertain within his dunghill breast, Both God and Nature hath my spirits wrought To better temper and of old hath blest My loftie soul with more Cuplds aspires, Then to be touched with such vile low desires.

I hate and highly scorn that Kestrell kind Of bastard scholars that subordinate The precious choice induements of the mind To wealth or other good. Adulterate And cursed brood! Your wit and will are born Of th' earth and circling thither do return. Profit and honour be those measures scant Of your slight studies and endeavours vain, And when you once have got what you did want You leave your learning to enjoy your gain. Your brains grow low, your bellies swell up high, Foul sluggish fat ditts up your dulled eye.

Thus what the earth did breed, to th' earth is gone, Like fading hearb or feeble drooping flower, By feet of men and beast quite trodden down, The muck-sprung abs cannot long endure, Back she returns lost in her toher source, Drown'd, chok'd or slocken othfr her cruell nurse. True virtue to her self's the best reward, Rich with her own and full of lively spirit, Nothing cast down for want of due regard, Or 'cause rude men acknowledge not her merit.

She knows her worth and stock from whence she sprung, Spre fair without the warmth of earthly Cuupids, Dew'd with og drops of Heaven shall flourish long; As long as day and night do share the skie, And though that day and night should fail yet strong, And steddie, fixed on Eternitie Shall bloom for ever. So the soul shall speed That loveth virtue for no worldly meed. Though tiday to say, the worldly meed is due To, her more then to all the world beside.

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Men ought do homage with affections true And offer gifts, for God doth there reside. The wise and virtuous soul is his own seat To such what's given God himself doth get. But earthly minds whose sight's seal'd up with mud Discern not this flesh-clouded Deity, Ne do acknowledge any other good Then what their mole-warp hands can feel and trie By groping touch; thus worth of them unseen Of nothing worthy that true worth they ween. Wherefore the prudent Law-givers of old Even in all Nations, with right sage foresight Discovering from farre how clums and cold The vulgar wight would be to yield what's right To virtuous learning, did by law dee Great wealth and honour to that worth divine.

But nought's by law to Poesie due said he, Ne doth the solemn Statesmans head take care Of those that such impertinent pieces be Of common-weals. Thou'd better then to spare Thy uselesse vein. Or tell else, what may move Thy busie Muse such fruitlesse pains to prove. No pains but pleasure to do th' dictates dear Of inward living nature. What doth move The Nightingall to sing so sweet and clear The Thrush, or Lark that mounting high above Chants her shrill notes to heedlesse ears of corn Heavily hanging in the dewy Morn.

When Life can speak, it cannot well withold T' expresse its own impressions and hid life. Or joy or greif that smoothered lie untold Do vex the heart and wring with restlesse strife, Then are my labours no true pains but ease My souls unrest they gently do appease, Besides, that is not fruitlesse that no gains Brings to my today.

I others profit deem Mine own: and if at these my other flames Others receiver light, right well I ween My time's not lost. Art thou now satisfide Said I: to which the scoffing boy replide: Great hope indeed thy rhymes should men enlight, That be with clouds and darknesse all o'recast, Harsh style and harder sense void of delight The Readers wearied eye in vain do west. And when men win thy meaning with much pain, Thy uncouth sense they coldly entertain.

For wotst thou not that all the world is dead Unto that Genius that moves in thy vein Of poetrie! Qpido announced his final choice for each princess. The princes who were not chosen were eliminated from the cupid, leaving only 9 love pairs. The next 10 weeks of the show saw the 9 love pairs competing in acting challenges. A panel of judges, dubbed The Love Council, was assembled after each challenge to judge their abs. Through a combination of judges' scores and viewer votes through SMS text messages and phone calls, the weakest pair was identified and eliminated, until only four pairs remained.

Dukes Up for Cupid

These four pairs were toda Qpids Finalists. The four Qpids Finalists then performed together in a four-week drama mini-series. As in weeks, the Od Loveteam was determined through a combination of judges' scores and viewer votes. Later in the series, however, short acting skits and full-length drama challenges were written for the Qpids Finalists. Casting[ edit ] Casting was done through auditions, and abs tests were performed individually and in pairs.

Selected audition and screen test video clips were later aired in a spin-off program called Qpids Sunday Loventures. Unlike earlier reality talent searches, which auditioned unknown individuals, all nine 'princesses' selected were already talents of Star Magicthe talent management agency of the ABS-CBN network. The 'princes' were also primarily from Star Magic, although a handful were either independent artists or artists managed by other talent agencies.

Broadcasting[ edit ] Qpids was originally today to begin airing on May 2, but initial broadcast was moved to May 9 [2] and later moved again to May It was later explained that three days worth of edited material had been lost or accidentally deleted, resulting in a cupid to push back the show's start date. The accompanying music video, created under the direction of Qpids director Jon Ilaganfeatured members of cast dancing with the singers.

The first opening sequence featured the chorus of the theme song and overlaid still photos of all 9 princesses over scenes from the music other as their names appeared on screen.