Friday, February 02, 2007

The Song of the Indian maid: Keats it is!

To Sorrow
I bade good morrow,
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind:
I would deceive her
And so leave her,
But ah! she is so constant and so kind.

1 comment:

Nightingale said...

The most touchy lines created by Keats..