Classic Poem

O what can ail thee, Knight at arms,
Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the Lake
And no birds sing!

O what can ail thee, Knight at arms,
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 cheeks 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 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 set her on my pacing steed
And nothing else saw all day long
For sidelong would she bend and sing
A faery's song--

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 wept, and sigh'd full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dream'd--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.

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's side.

And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering;
Though the sedge is withered from the Lake,
And no birds sing--