Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/123

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No more delight—I bid adieu to all. Didst thou not after other climates call, And murmur about Indian streams?"—Then she, Sitting beneath the midmost forest tree, For pity sang this roundelay——
 * "O Sorrow!
 * Why dost borrow
 * The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?—
 * To given maiden blushes
 * To the white rose bushes?
 * Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips?


 * "O Sorrow!
 * Why dost borrow
 * The lustrous passion from a falcon-eye ?—
 * To give the glow-worm light ?
 * Or, on a moonless night,
 * To tinge, on syren shores, the salt sea-spry ?


 * "O Sorrow !
 * Why dost borrow
 * The mellow ditties from a mourning tongue?—
 * To give at evening pale
 * Unto the nightingale,
 * That thou mayst listen the cold dews among?


 * "O Sorrow!
 * Why dost borrow
 * Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
 * A lover would not tread
 * A cowslip on the head,