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John Keats - To -------.
Work rating: Medium

1.
Think not of it, sweet one, so;--
      Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
      Any, any where.

2.
Do not look so sad, sweet one,--
      Sad and fadingly;
Shed one drop then, it is gone,
      O `twas born to die!

3.
Still so pale? then, dearest, weep;
      Weep, I`ll count the tears,
And each one shall be a bliss
      For thee in after years.

4.
Brighter has it left thine eyes
      Than a sunny rill;
And thy whispering melodies
      Are tenderer still.

5.
Yet -- as all things mourn awhile
      At fleeting blisses,
E`en let us too! but be our dirge
      A dirge of kisses.
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