Before the urchin well could go,
She stole the whiteness of the snow;
And, more that whiteness to adorn,
She stole the blushes of the morn, –
On primrose buds or violet beds.
Still, to reveal her artful wiles,
She stole the Grace’s silken smiles;
She stole Aurora’s balmy breath,
And pilfer’d orient pearl for teeth:
The cherry, dipt in morning dew,
Gave moisture to her lips, and hue.
These were her infant spoils, — a store
To which in time she added more.
At twelve, she stole from Cyprus’ queen
Her air and love-commanding mien,
Stole Juno’s dignity, and stole,
From Pallas, sense to charm the soul.
Apollo’s wit was next her prey;
Her next, the beam that lights the day.
She sung; — amazed, the Syrens heard
And, to assert their voice, appeared.
She play’d; — the Muses from the hill
Wonder’d who thus had stol’n their skill.
Great Jove approv’d her crimes and art,
And t’other day she stole my heart!
If lovers, Cupid, are thy care,
Exert thy vengeance on this fair,
To trial bring her stolen charms,
And let her prison be my arms.
(Charles Wyndham)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Soul Poems, Fairness Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Smiling Poems, Art Poems, Morning Poems, Snow Poems, Wit Poems, Dignity PoemsBased on Keywords: cyprus, approv, pilfer, exert, syrens, love-commanding