Hail to the myrtle shade

Hail to the myrtle shade,

All hail to the nymphs of the fields!

Kings will not here invade,

Though virtue all freedom yields:

Beauty here opens her arms

To soften the languishing mind,

And Phyllis unlocks her charms;

Ah! Phyllis, ah! why so kind?

Phyllis, thou soul of love,

Thou joy of the neighb'ring swains:

Phyllis, that crowns the grove,

And Phyllis, that gilds the plains:

Phyllis, that ne'er had the skill

To paint and to patch and be fine;

Yet Phyllis, whose eyes can kill,

Whom Nature has made divine.

Phyllis, whose charming song

Makes labour and pains a delight:

Phyllis, that makes the day young,

And shortens the livelong night:

Phyllis, whose lips like May

Still laugh at the sweets that they bring,

Where love never knows decay,

But sets with eternal spring.