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PHYLLIS by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS

First Line: O PAINTER, MATCH AN ENGLISH BLOOM
Last Line: TO MAKE THE LOVELY CHILD MORE DEAR?
Subject(s): BEAUTY;

O PAINTER, match an English bloom,
And give the head an English air,
Then with great grey-blue stars illume
That face pathetically fair.

As though some sweet child, dowered at will
With all the wisdom years could send,
Looked up and, like a baby still,
Became thine equal and thy friend;

And kept the childly curves, and grew
To woman's shape in wondrous wise,
And with soft passion filled anew
The sea-like sapphire of her eyes.

Look on her, painter; is there aught
Of well-beloved that is not here?
Could chance or art be guessed or taught
To make the lovely child more dear?



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