La Belle Dame Sans Merci

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 look’d at me as she did love
And made sweet moan
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»
She found me roots of relish sweet
And honey wild, and manna dew
And sure in language strange she said
«I love thee true»
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»
And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed — Ah! woe betide! -
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill side