Sweet babe, in thy face soft desires I can trace. Secret joys and secret smiles, little pretty infant wiles.
One would be in less danger From the wiles of a stranger If one's own kin and kith Were more fun to be with.
A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.william wordsworth
We have winning wiles and witcheries, Such incantations as thy sterner wit Did never dream of. Time hath been ere now That Jove hath listen'd to our minstrelsy. Till wrath would seem to drop out of his soul Like a forgotten thing.