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

IV.

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.