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Home  »  The Little Book of Society Verse  »  To Phœbe

Fuess and Stearns, comps. The Little Book of Society Verse. 1922.

By. William Schwenck Gilbert

To Phœbe

“GENTLE, modest, little flower,

Sweet epitome of May,

Love me but for half-an-hour,

Love me, love me, little fay.”

Sentences so fiercely flaming

In your tiny shell-like ear,

I should always be exclaiming

If I loved you, PHŒBE, dear.

“Smiles that thrill from any distance

Shed upon me while I sing!

Please ecstaticise existence,

Love me, oh, thou fairy thing!”

Words like these, outpouring sadly,

You’d perpetually hear,

If I loved you, fondly, madly;—

But I do not, PHŒBE, dear.