<h2><SPAN name="page122"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>TO PHŒBE</h2>
<p class="poetry">“<span class="smcap">Gentle</span>,
modest little flower,<br/>
Sweet epitome of May,<br/>
Love me but for half an hour,<br/>
Love me, love me, little fay.”<br/>
Sentences so fiercely flaming<br/>
In your tiny shell-like ear,<br/>
I should always be exclaiming<br/>
If I loved you, <span class="smcap">Phœbe</span> dear.</p>
<p class="poetry">“Smiles that thrill from any distance<br/>
Shed upon me while I sing!<br/>
Please ecstaticize existence,<br/>
Love me, oh, thou fairy thing!”<br/>
Words like these, outpouring sadly<br/>
You’d perpetually hear,<br/>
If I loved you fondly, madly;—<br/>
But I do not, <span class="smcap">Phœbe</span>
dear.</p>
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