John Keats-La belle dame sans merci
| JOHN KEATS |
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LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI 1 Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 2 Alone and palely loitering; 3 The sedge is wither'd from the lake, 4 And no birds sing. 5 Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 6 So haggard and so woe-begone? 7 The squirrel's granary is full, 8 And the harvest's done. 9 I see a lily on thy brow, 10 With anguish moist and fever dew; 11 And on thy cheek a fading rose 12 Fast withereth too. 13 I met a lady in the meads 14 Full beautiful, a faery's child; 15 Her hair was long, her foot was light, 16 And her eyes were wild. 17 I set her on my pacing steed, 18 And nothing else saw all day long; 19 For sideways would she lean, and sing 20 A faery's song. 21 I made a garland for her head, 22 And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 23 She look'd at me as she did love, 24 And made sweet moan. 25 She found me roots of relish sweet, 26 And honey wild, and manna dew; 27 And sure in language strange she said, 28 I love thee true. 29 She took me to her elfin grot, 30 And there she gaz'd and sighed deep, 31 And there I shut her wild sad eyes-- 32 So kiss'd to sleep. 33 And there we slumber'd on the moss, 34 And there I dream'd, ah woe betide, 35 The latest dream I ever dream'd 36 On the cold hill side. 37 I saw pale kings, and princes too, 38 Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; 39 Who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci 40 Hath thee in thrall!" 41 I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam 42 With horrid warning gaped wide, 43 And I awoke, and found me here 44 On the cold hill side. 45 And this is why I sojourn here 46 Alone and palely loitering, 47 Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, 48 And no birds sing. |
