The Tardy Cherub

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Cupid snoozed—his alarm betrayed, Wings askew, his bow mislaid. Love showed up a moment late, Blushing, breathless, tempting fate. Turns out hearts still fell just fine— Even tardy arrows hit on time.

Which way?

"To every man there openeth
A way and ways and a way;
And the high soul treads the high way,
And the low soul gropes the low;
And in between on the misty flats
The rest drift to and fro;
But to every man there openeth
A high way and a low,
And every man decideth
The way his soul shall go."

(John Oxenham, 1852-1941)

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