Phillis The Queen O The Fair
推荐阅读:葬心雪 (古言H)、妹妹、【眷思量】佳人入我我我我我我怀、月下妖莲:万人迷的权贵猎场(NPH)、心爱的猎物(1v1 高H)、鲜奶甩卖,买一送妻、我怀抱天明(伪母子H)、笨蛋美人艰难求生、爱神降临(西幻np)、声声慢、
phillis the queen o' the fair
tune—“the muckin o' geordie's byre.”
adown winding nith i did wander,
to mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
adown winding nith i did wander,
of phillis to muse and to sing.
chorus.—awa' wi' your belles and your beauties,
they never wi' her can compare,
whaever has met wi' my phillis,
has met wi' the queen o' the fair.
the daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
so artless, so simple, so wild;
thou emblem, said i, o' my phillis—
for she is simplicity's child.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
the rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
how fair and how pure is the lily!
but fairer and purer her breast.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
they ne'er wi' my phillis can vie:
her breath is the breath of the woodbine,
its dew-drop o' diamond her eye.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
her voice is the song o' the morning,
that wakes thro' the green-spreading grove
when phoebus peeps over the mountains,
on music, and pleasure, and love.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
but beauty, how frail and how fleeting!
the bloom of a fine summer's day;
while worth in the mind o' my phillis,
will flourish without a decay.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
tune—“the muckin o' geordie's byre.”
adown winding nith i did wander,
to mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
adown winding nith i did wander,
of phillis to muse and to sing.
chorus.—awa' wi' your belles and your beauties,
they never wi' her can compare,
whaever has met wi' my phillis,
has met wi' the queen o' the fair.
the daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
so artless, so simple, so wild;
thou emblem, said i, o' my phillis—
for she is simplicity's child.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
the rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
how fair and how pure is the lily!
but fairer and purer her breast.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
they ne'er wi' my phillis can vie:
her breath is the breath of the woodbine,
its dew-drop o' diamond her eye.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
her voice is the song o' the morning,
that wakes thro' the green-spreading grove
when phoebus peeps over the mountains,
on music, and pleasure, and love.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
but beauty, how frail and how fleeting!
the bloom of a fine summer's day;
while worth in the mind o' my phillis,
will flourish without a decay.
awa' wi' your belles, c.
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