Page:A midsummer holiday and other poems (IA midsummerholiday00swin).pdf/130

 Baby, baby true, Man, whate'er he do, May deceive not you.

Smiles whose love is guile, Worn a flattering while, Win from you no smile.

One, the smile alone Out of love's heart grown, Ever wins your own.

Man, a dunce uncouth, Errs in age and youth: Babies know the truth.