"Hears not my Phyllis how the birds
Their feathered mates salute?
They tell their passion in their words.
Must I alone be mute?"
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
"The god of love in thy bright eyes
Does like a tyrant reign.
But in thy heart a child he lies,
Without his dart of flame."
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
"So many months in silence past,
And yet in raging love,
Might well deserve one word, at last
My passion to approve."
Phyllis, without frown or smile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
|
![[Zur Startseite]](/images/misc/logo-new.gif){kind=logo}
