John Keats

To Sorrow
I bade good-morrow,
And though to leave her far away behind;
But read more

To Sorrow
I bade good-morrow,
And though to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly:
She is so constant to me, and so kind.

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they read more

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they knew, these overdrest self-lovers,
What hides the body oft the mind discovers.

I long to believe in immortality. . . . If I am destined to be
happy with you here--how read more

I long to believe in immortality. . . . If I am destined to be
happy with you here--how short is the longest life. I wish to
believe in immortality--I wish to live with you forever.

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

Dry your eyes--O dry your eyes,
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of read more

Dry your eyes--O dry your eyes,
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies.