Classic Poem

P HYLLIS had shown herself to me
As yielding as she well could be,
I thought, shall I reward the fair
With essences or unguents rare,
Fine cloth, perhaps a pretty frock,
Or ‘yellow boys’ her purse to stock?
But, ere I knew, this dainty love
Clung, kissing like an amorous dove,
About my neck, and begged of me
A quart or so—of eau-de-vie!