THE BADGER PUBLIC LIBRARY

Think Of It Not, Sweet One

John Keats

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

Do not lool so sad, sweet one,---
    Sad and fadingly;
Shed one drop then,---it is gone---
    O '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.

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