La Belle Dame Sans Merci
O, what can ail thee, knight at arms,
Alone and palely loitering:
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
O, what can ail thee, knight at arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish mosit and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful - a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone,
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
I set her on my pacing steed
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild and manna dew;
And sure in language strange she said -
I love thee true.
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed and sighed full sore:
And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dreamed, ah woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all:
They cry'd - 'La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
I saw their starved lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
On the cold hill side.
And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
John Keats
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Jewel of the Sea © Amy Brown Fantasy Art
Winter © Amy Brown Fantasy Art
- don't you love Amy Brown's artwork?
Isn't she great!!
- So is my twinny, Tet..I'm in awe :-)
*Artists are my favourite
creative souls*
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