Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/255

Rh

 Ah! would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy! But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it, Nor numbed sense to steal it, Was never said in rhyme.

 

not of it, sweet one, so;—
 * Give it not a tear;

Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
 * Any—any where.

Do not look so sad, sweet one,—
 * Sad and fadingly;

Shed one drop then—it is gone—
 * Oh! 'twas born to die!

Still so pale? then dearest weep
 * Weep, I'll count the tears,

And each one shall be a bliss
 * For thee in after years.

Brighter has it left thine eyes
 * Than a sunny rill;

And thy whispering melodies
 * Are tenderer still. 