LE BELLE dame sans merci. a ballad

O what can thee, knight at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering

I see a lily

on thy brow

And on thy cheeks

a fading rose

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;

I set her on

my pacing steed,

And no

birds sing.

On the cold

hill’s side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

And there she wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

And there she lulled me asleep

And ther I dreamed - Ah woe Betide! -