Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/769

 That creed I fain would keep, That hope I'll not forgo— Eternal be the sleep Unless to waken so!

��JOHN KEATS 630 Song of the Indian Maid

FROM 'ENDYMION'

I SORROW

Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?

To give maiden blushes

To the white rose bushes? Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips?

��o

��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 siren 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?

630 sea-spry] sea-spray.

�� �