Part 2 — PHILLIS AND CORYDON
Reading edition
Phillis took a red rose from the tangles of her hair,— Time, the Golden Age; the place, Arcadia, anywhere,—
Phillis laughed, the saucy jade: "Sir Shepherd, wilt have this, Or"—Bashful god of skipping lambs and oaten reeds!—"a kiss?"
Bethink thee, gentle Corydon! A rose lasts all night long, A kiss but slips from off your lips like a thrush's evening song.
A kiss that goes, where no one knows! A rose, a crimson rose! Corydon made his choice and took—Well, which do you suppose?
Arthur Colton [1868-