Mrs. C. Ladd, “Oh! Do Not Say Again Love’s Blind,” Godey's Lady's Book, and Ladies' American Magazine, August 1841

MRS. C. LADD, “Oh! Do Not Say Again Love’s Blind,” Godey’s Lady’s Book, and Ladies’ American Magazine, August 1841

The speaker here has had a bad experience with love, we guess, but reading the poem has not helped us see what it was. Somehow, she suggests, because Cupid can see, she was tricked into a love relationship when all she wanted was friendship. So that’s clear, right? If Cupid were blind, she implies, he’d be less dangerous, but isn’t a blind child randomly shooting emotion-stimulating arrows about as dangerous as a pint-sized demigod can get? Because it substitutes mythological baloney for the details of a deeply felt and perhaps even tragic life story, this poem is not only a turkey but a blind one as well!

Boston Public Library, Rare Books & Manuscripts

Recitation: "Oh! Do Not Say...."

MRS. C. LADD, “Oh! Do Not Say Again Love’s Blind,” Godey’s Lady’s Book, and Ladies’ American Magazine, August 1841

     OH! DO NOT SAY AGAIN LOVE’S BLIND.
              By Mrs. C. Ladd. 

Oh! never say again that Love
Is blind, or that he hath not eyes!
Alas! for me he sees too well,
His arrow ne’er unerring flies,

His arrow ne’er unerring flies;
Alas! I know that Love hath eyes.

I met the little wandering boy,
And stopp’d to ask the urchin’s name.
“Friendship, dear maid,” he quick replied.
I took him up; oh! do not blame!

I press’d him closely to my breast,
And bade him there for ever rest.

I heard some whisper that ‘twas Love;
Their words, alas! I did not heed,
For I believed, and always heard
From time memorial, Love was blind.
But now I know, ah! I know too well,
That in Love’s eyes lies half the spell.

Soon as I felt the aching dart,
Istrove to drive the boy away;
But, laughing in my face, he said,
“True Love, dear lady, cannot stray,
False Love, that’s blind, may lose his way,
True Love can see and ne’er will stray.”

Then ne’er believe or say again,
Love cannot see, or you may find,
As I have done, when ‘tis too late,
Cupid hath eyes—the boy’s not blind.
His dart, dear girls, ne’er erring flies;
Beware, beware, Cupid hath eyes!

Godey’s Lady’s Book, and Ladies’

American Magazine, August 1841