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La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats
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 looked 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!'
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