THE FAIR THIEF

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; Stole all the sweets that either sheds On primrose buds or violet beds. Still, to reveal her artful wiles, She stole the Graces’ silken smiles: She stole Aurora’s balmy breath, And pilfered 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 Sirens heard, And to assert their voice appeared: She played: the Muses from the hill Wondered who thus had stol’n their skill. Great Jove approved 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.