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;
They cried “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;
They cried “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’s side