Phyllis and Damon met one day (Heigho!) Phyllis was sad, and Damon gray, Tired with treading a separate way. Damon sighed for his broken flute : (Heigho!) Phyllis went with a noiseless foot Under the olives stript of fruit. Met they, parted they, all unsaid? (Heigho!) Ah ! but a ghost's lips are not red; Damon was old and Phyllis dead, (Heigho!) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LIMBO by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE MOWER TO THE GLOW-WORMS by ANDREW MARVELL THE VILLAGE MUNITIONS CO., INC.; FORMERLY THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS HORATIAN ECHO by MATTHEW ARNOLD SHADOWS OF RECOLLECTION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 50. MY LOVE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |