"Without his knowledge he was won; Against his nature kept devout; She'll never tell him how 'twas done, And he will never find it out. If, sudden, he suspects her wiles, And hears her forging chain and trap, And looks, she sits in simple smiles, Her two hands lying in her lap. Her secret (privilege of the Bard, Whose fancy is of either sex), Is mine; but let the darkness guard Myst'ries that light would more perplex!"