Tixall Poetry/Phillis

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4305883Tixall PoetryPhillisArthur Cliffordunknown author

LVI.

Phillis.


Smiling Phillis hath an aire
Soe ingaging, all men love her;
But her hidden vertues are
Wonders I dare not discover.
Soe bewitching, that in vaine
I endeavour to forget her,
Stil she brings me backe againe,
And I dayly love her better.

Kindnes springs within her eyes,
And from thence is allwaies flowing,
Every minute doth surprize
With fresh beauties allwaies blowing.
Were she but as true as faire,
Never man had such a treasure;
But I die with jealous care,
In the midst of all my pleasure.

Free and easie without pride,
Is her language and her fashion;
Setting gentle love aside,
She is not mov'd with any passion.
When she saies I have her hart,
Though I ought not to believe her,
She soe kindly plaies her part,
I could be deceived for ever.