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Faery Songs

By John Keats

Topics: classic

I.     Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!     The flower will bloom another year.     Weep no more! oh, weep no more!     Young buds sleep in the root's white core.     Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes!     For I was taught in Paradise     To ease my breast of melodies,     Shed no tear.     Overhead! look overhead!     'Mong the blossoms white and red     Look up, look up! I flutter now     On this fresh pomegranate bough.     See me! 'tis this silvery bill     Ever cures the good man's ill.     Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!     The flower will bloom another year.     Adieu, adieu, I fly adieu!     I vanish in the heavens blue,     Adieu, adieu! II.     Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!     That I must chant thy lady's dirge,     And death to this fair haunt of spring,     Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,     Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!     That I must see     These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall!     Go, pretty page! and in her ear     Whisper that the hour is near!     Softly tell her not to fear     Such calm favonian burial!     Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,     The blossoms hang by a melting spell,     And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice     Upon her closed eyes,     That now in vain are weeping their last tears,     At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,     Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,     Alas! poor Queen!

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Author:John Keats

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"I...." by John Keats

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

John Keats

About John Keats

John Keats (1795–1821) was an English Romantic poet whose odes—"Ode to a Nightingale," "Ode on a Grecian Urn," "To Autumn"—are among the most celebrated in the language. Despite dying of tuberculosis at 25, he produced work of extraordinary sensory richness and philosophical depth.

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