"Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul."
"Shed no tear - O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more - O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root's white core."
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Source: John Keats, Helen Vendler (1990). “Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard”, p.140, Harvard University Press
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