La Belle Dame Sans Merci

What can hail thee, knight at arms,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

What can hail thee, knight at arms,

So haggard and so woe be gone?

The squirrel’s granary is full,

And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on the brow

With anguish moist and fever dew;

And on the cheek a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful – fairy’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 saw nothing else all day long,

For sideways would she lean, and sing a fairy’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild, and manna dew;

And in a strange language, she said

‘ I love you truly’

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she gazed and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With four kisses.

And there she pulled me asleep,

And there I dreamed

The latest dream I ever dreamed

On the cold hill side.