MY Phyllis, O my Phyllis, Oh, have you seen her, say? A little maiden still at school, I meet her ev'ry day. 'T is true I do not know her name, But then I love her all the same, -- One cannot love by any rule, My Phyllis, my sweet Phyllis. My Phyllis, O my Phyllis, With cunning glove of tan, With your sunshade brightest scarlet, With fascinating fan, The glances in your eye that lurk Go forth, ah me! to fatal work, -- You dainty, dangerous coquette, My Phyllis, lovely Phyllis. My Phyllis, O my Phyllis, I'd fain indeed be wise; I know your ev'ry wile, you see, And yet before those eyes I'm glad to stand a target, too, And only beg just this of you Whom I adore, -- that you'll love me, My Phyllis, darling Phyllis. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BOMBER IN LONDON by RUDYARD KIPLING MADONNA OF THE EVENING FLOWERS by AMY LOWELL CAROLINA [JANUARY, 1865] by HENRY TIMROD THE NUANCES OF MENDACITY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE DREAM THAT CRACKED A WHIP by FRANCES AIRTH OUR PASSWORD by ISIDORE G. ASCHER OUTSIDE THE TOYSHOP by JANE BARLOW THE ROSEBUSH AND THE TRINITY by ALFRED BARRETT SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE by WILLIAM BASSE |