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.