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FROM THREE FLY LEAVES.
i. To P. L. } AGED 4|.
Ah Phyllis! did I only dare
- To hope that, as the years go by,
And you, a maid divinely fair,
- The cynosure of every eye,
Have fixed the wandering minds of men,
- And found a fare for scores of hearses,
You still will open, now and then,
- My little book of verses;
Or did I, bolder yet, aspire
- To hope that any phrase of mine,
Aglow with memory's cheering fire
- Will burn within that heart of thine ;
Although my brow be bare of bays,
- My coffers not replete with gain,
I shall not what's the foolish phrase?
- Have written quite in vain.
