Phyllis and Damon met one day
(Heigho!)
Phyllis was sad, and Damon gray,
Tired with treading a separate way.
Damon sighed for his broken flute:
(Heigho!)
Phyllis went with a noiseless foot
Under the olives stript of fruit.
Met they, parted they, all unsaid?
(Heigho!)
Ah! but a ghost's lips are not red;
Damon was old and Phyllis dead,
(Heigho!)
I am busy working to bring Nora Hopper Chesson's "Phyllis and Damon" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Nora Hopper Chesson's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Phyllis and Damon" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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