Hail to the myrtle shade,
All hail to the nymphs of the fields
Kings will not here in vade,
Tho' virtue all freedom yields.
Beauty here opens her arms
To soften the languishing mind,
And Phillis unlocks her charms
Ah Phillis! Ah! Why so kind?

Phillis, the soul of love,
The joy of the neighbouring swains
Phillis that crowns the grove,
And Phillis that gilds the plains.
Phillis whose lips like May
Still laugh at the sweets that they bring,
Where love never knows decay,
But sets with eternal spring.

Phillis that ne'er had the skill
To paint, or to patch, or be fine
Yet Phillis whose eyes can kill,
Whom nature has made divine.

Phillis whose charming tongue,
Makes labour and pain a delight
Phillis that makes the day young,
And shortens the livelong night.
Phillis whose lips like May
Still laugh at the sweets that they bring,
Where love never knows decay,
But sets with eternal spring.