Lucretius Roman author of the Ist century BC, invokes Venus in these terms at the beginning of his treatise On the Nature of Things:
"Mother of Aeneas and his race, delight of men and gods, life-giving Venus, it is your doing that under the wheeling constellations of the sky all nature teems with life, both the sea that buoys up our own ships and the earth that yields our food. Through you all living creatures are conceived and come forth to look upon the sunlight (...). Spell-bound by your charm, they follow your lead with fierce desire. So throughout seas and uplands, rushing torrents, verdurous meadows and the leafy shelters of the birds, into the breasts of one and all you instill alluring love, so that with passionate longing they reproduce their several breeds."
A little further he refers to the love between Venus and Mars (addressing Venus directly again):
"Meanwhile, grant that this brutal business of war by sea and land may everywhere be lulled to rest. For you alone have power to bestow on mortals the blessing of quiet peace. In your bosom Mars himself, supreme commander in this brutal business, flings himself down at times, laid low by the irremediable wound of love. Gazing upward, his neck a prostrate column, he fixes hungry eyes on you, great goddess, and gluts them with love. As he lies outstretched, his breath hangs upon your lips."(De Rerum Natura, I, 1-39)
Ovid, in the Metamorphoses, describes the role played by (Cupid) in Apollo’s love for Daphne:
"Phoebus’s first love was Daphne, daughter of Peneus, and not through chance but because of Cupid’s fierce anger. Recently the Delian god [Apollo], exulting at his victory over the serpent, had seen him bending his tightly strung bow and said : ’Impudent boy, what are you doing with a man’s weapons?. That one is suited to my shoulders. (...) You should be intent on stirring the concealed fires of love with your burning brand, not laying claim to my glories.’
Venus’s son replied: ’You may hit every other thing Phoebus, but my bow will strike you (...)’ He spoke, and striking the air fiercely with beating wings, he landed on the shady peak of Parnassus, and took two arrows with opposite effects from his full quiver : one kindles love, the other dispels it (...) With the second he transfixed Peneus’s daughter, but with the first he wounded Apollo, piercing him to the marrow of his bones. Now the one loved, and the other fled from love’s name, taking delight in the depths of the woods." (Metamorphoses, I, 460-473)