"
We bow our heads to his memory and say farewell to him in these
words of his own fairy song--
"Shed no tea! oh shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! oh weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the roots' white core.
Dry your eyes! oh dry your eyes!
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my heart of melodies--
Shed no tear.
"Overhear! look overhead!
'Mong the blossoms white and red--
Look up, look up. I flutter now
On this flush pomegranate bough.
See me! 'tis this silvery bill
Ever cures the good man's ill.
Shed not tear! oh shed not tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Adieu! Adieu!--I fly, adieu!
I vanish in the heaven's blue--
Adieu! Adieu!"
Chapter LXXXII CARLYLE--THE SAGE OF CHELSEA
JOHN KEATS was little more than a month old, when far away across
the Border another little baby boy was born. His parent, too
were simple folk, and he, too, was born to be great.
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