| |
| O WHAT 1 can ail thee, Knight-at-arms, | |
| Alone and palely loitering? | |
| The sedge has wither’d from the lake, | |
| And no birds sing. | |
| |
| O what can ail thee, Knight-at-arms, | 5 |
| 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 moist and fever dew; | 10 |
| 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, | 15 |
| And her eyes were wild. | |
| |
| I made a garland for her head, | |
| And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; | |
| She look’d at me as she did love, | |
| And made sweet moan. | 20 |
| |
| I set her on my pacing steed, | |
| And nothing else saw all day long; | |
| For sidelong would she bend, and sing | |
| A faery’s song. | |
| |
| She found me roots of relish sweet, | 25 |
| 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 wept and sigh’d full sore, | 30 |
| And there I shut her wild, wild eyes | |
| With kisses four. | |
| |
| And there she lulled me asleep, | |
| And there I dream’d—Ah! woe betide! | |
| The latest dream I ever dream’d | 35 |
| On the cold hill-side. | |
| |
| I saw pale Kings and Princes too, | |
| Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; | |
| They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci | |
| Hath thee in thrall!’ | 40 |
| |
| I saw their starv’d 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 | 45 |
| Alone and palely loitering, | |
| Though the sedge is wither’d from the Lake, | |
| And no birds sing. | |
