| Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
|
| Alone and palely loitering?
|
| The sedge has withered from the lake,
|
| And no birds sing.
|
| II Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
|
| So haggard and so woe-begone?
|
| The squirrel’s granary is full,
|
| And the harvest’s done.
|
| III
|
| I see a lily on thy brow,
|
| With anguish moist and fever-dew,
|
| And on thy cheeks a fading rose
|
| Fast withereth too.
|
| IV 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.
|
| VI 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.
|
| VII
|
| She found me roots of relish sweet,
|
| And honey wild, and manna-dew,
|
| And sure in language strange she said —
|
| 'I love thee true'.
|
| VIII
|
| She took me to her elfin grot,
|
| And there she wept and sighed full sore,
|
| And there I shut her wild wild eyes
|
| With kisses four.
|
| IX And there she lulled me asleep
|
| And there I dreamed — Ah! |
| woe betide! |
| -
|
| The latest dream I ever dreamt
|
| 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!'
|
| XI I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
|
| With horrid warning gaped wide,
|
| And I awoke and found me here,
|
| On the cold hill’s side.
|
| XII
|
| And this is why I sojourn here
|
| Alone and palely loitering,
|
| Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
|
| And no birds sing. |