When Phyliss Goes To Walk

When Phyliss takes a morning stroll

     Adown the winding way,

The road seems fair and free from care,

     And brighter beams the day.

The grasses cease to weave and play,

     And birdlings cease their talk;

And Nature sings the sweetest things,

     When Phyliss goes to walk.

When Phyliss takes a morning stroll

     My heart goes strolling too;

My weary pen falls down again,

     My work I cannot do.

I watch her from my window pane,

     With eyes like any hawk.

Unhappy me! I wish that she

     Would ride, or cease to walk.

Jan. 12, 1902