John Keats — Hither Hither Love

Hither hither, love 'Tis a shady mead Hither, hither, love! Let us feed and feed! Hither, hither, sweet 'Tis a cowslip bed Hither, hither, sweet! 'Tis with dew bespread! Hither, hither, dear By the breath of life Hither, hither, dear! Be the summer's wife! Though one moment's pleasure In one moment flies Though the passion's treasure In one moment dies Yet it has not passed Think how near, how near! And while it doth last Think how dear, how dear! Hither, hither, hither Love its boon has sent If I die and wither I shall die content!