Explore "Horace to Phyllis" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Come, Phyllis, I've a cask of wine / That fairly reeks with precious juices, / And in your tresses you shall twine / The loveliest flowers this vale produces.
My cottage wears a gracious smile, -- / The altar, decked in floral glory, / Yearns for the lamb which bleats the while / As though it pined for honors gory.