Ballad. In the Graces
IN THE GRACES .
At first like an infant appearing,
With neither his bow nor his darts,
To his wiles we attend without fearing,
Till he creeps by degrees to our hearts.
When soon for our folly requited,
This guest the sole master we find,
For scarce to the bosom invited,
He lords it at will o'er the mind.
At first like an infant appearing,
With neither his bow nor his darts,
To his wiles we attend without fearing,
Till he creeps by degrees to our hearts.
When soon for our folly requited,
This guest the sole master we find,
For scarce to the bosom invited,
He lords it at will o'er the mind.
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