PHYLLIS took a red rose from the tangles of her hair (Time, the Golden Age; the place, Arcadia, anywhere). Phyllis laughed, the saucy jade, "Sir Shepherd, wilt have this Or" (Bashful god of skipping lambs and oaten reeds!) "a kiss?" Bethink thee, gentle Corydon! A rose lasts all night long, A kiss but slips from off your lips like a robin's evening-song. A kiss that goes where no one knows! A rose, a crimson rose! Corydon made his choice and took -- Well, which do you suppose? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMTER by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 22 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING WERE I BUT HIS OWN WIFE by ELLEN MARY PATRICK DOWNING TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME by ROBERT HERRICK THE WEATHER-COCK POINTS SOUTH by AMY LOWELL WINTER'S EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL LIME STREET by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |