Where Be You Going, you Devon Maid?
by: John Keats (1795 - 1821)
Where be you going, you Devon maid?
And what have ye there in the basket?
Ye tight little fairy,
just fresh from the dairy,
Will ye give me some cream if I ask for it?
I love your hills and I love your dales,
And I love your flocks a-bleating;
But oh, on the heather to lie together,
With both our hearts a-beating!
I'll put your basket all safe in a nook;
Your shawl I'll hang on a willow;
And we will sigh in the daisy's eye,
And kiss on a grass-green pillow.
|
Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone, The
Human Seasons, The
Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast As Thou Art
Fancy
When I Have Fears That I May Ceasa To Be
When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be
To Autumn
Terror of Death, The
|
