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Ovid Metamorphoses

Poor Vulcan soon desired to hear no more,
He dropped his hammer, and he shook all o'er:
Then courage takes, and full of vengeful ire
He heaves the bellows, and blows fierce the fire:
From liquid brass, tho' sure, yet subtle snares
He forms, and next a wond'rous net prepares,
Drawn with such curious art, so nicely sly,
Unseen the meshes cheat the searching eye.
Not half so thin their webs the spiders weave,
Which the most wary, buzzing prey deceive. 

The conscious bed again was quickly pressed
By the fond pair, in lawless raptures blest.
Mars wondered at his Cytherea's charms,
More fast than ever locked within her arms.
While Vulcan the ivory doors unbarred with care,
Then called the Gods to view the sportive pair:
The Gods thronged in, and saw in open day,
Where Mars, and beauty's queen, all naked, lay.
O! shameful sight, if shameful that we name,
Which Gods with envy viewed, and could not blame;
But, for the pleasure, wished to bear the shame.
Each Deity, with laughter tired, departs,
Yet all still laughed at Vulcan in their hearts.