Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering;The sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 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;And on thy cheek 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 set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long;For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery's song.
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.
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 gaz'd and sighed deep,And there I shut her wild sad eyes-- So kiss'd to sleep.
And there we slumber'd on the moss, And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;Who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!"
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 Alone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
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he lived from 1795-1821. great romantic poet .i always wonder y great people live a short life.
jimi hendrix,janis joplin,jim morrison ,john keats .....now i know y i live longer......to become great
change ur name to something that begins with letter j and die young.....just kidding.....anyway
thats a great poem.
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 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;And on thy cheek 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 set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long;For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery's song.
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.
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 gaz'd and sighed deep,And there I shut her wild sad eyes-- So kiss'd to sleep.
And there we slumber'd on the moss, And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;Who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!"
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 Alone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
he lived from 1795-1821. great romantic poet .i always wonder y great people live a short life.
jimi hendrix,janis joplin,jim morrison ,john keats .....now i know y i live longer......to become great
change ur name to something that begins with letter j and die young.....just kidding.....anyway
thats a great poem.
