Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day,
     Few are my years, but my griefs are not few, 
Ever to youth should each day be a May-day,
     Warm wind and rose-breath and diamonded dew— 
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.

Oh for the sunlight that shines on a May-day!
     Only the cloud hangeth over my life. 
Love that should bring me youth's happiest heyday
    Brings me but seasons of sorrow and strife; 
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.

Sunshine or shadow, or gold day or gray day,
     Life must be lived as our destinies rule; 
Leisure or labor or work day or play day—
     Feasts for the famous and fun for the fool; 
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.