Insatiate archer! could not one suffice?

Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain;

And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn.

Edward Young (1684-1765): Night thoughts. Night i. Line 212.

Oh, many a shaft at random sent

Finds mark the archer little meant!

And many a word at random spoken

May soothe, or wound, a heart that's broken!

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832): Lord of the Isles. Canto v. Stanza 18.

Like an arrow shot

From a well-experienc'd archer hits the mark

His eye doth level at.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Pericles. Act i. Sc. 1.