The wind blew little Cupid down last night who, in the dim nook of the park, with guile bending his bow,would watch with a smile, and give us a long day dream-delight, Last night's wind blew him down. Ah! sad to see the broken marble at te breath of dawn, scattered, the artist's fant-seen name upon the base, among he shadows of a tree. Oh, it is sad!_And you yourself,yes? feel the pain of this drear picture, though your frivolous eye toys with the gold and crimson butterfly fluttering above th fragments in the lane. Paul Verlaine
