Isabella; Or, The Pot of Basil
XLIV.

John Keats

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See, as they creep along the river side,

How she doth whisper to that aged Dame,

And, after looking round the champaign wide,

Shows her a knife.- "What feverous hectic flame

"Burns in thee, child?- What good can thee betide,

"That thou should'st smile again?"- The evening came,

And they had found Lorenzo's earthy bed;

The flint was there, the berries at his head.

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