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The "Bab" Ballads/To Phoebe

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1689975To Phœbe1865W.S. 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 ecstaticize 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!