La Belle Dame Sans Merci – Marianne Faithfull & Warren EllisBy Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-armsAlone and palely loitering?The sedge has withered from the lakeAnd no birds singOh what can ail thee, knight-at-armsSo haggard and so woe-begone?The squirrel’s granary is fullAnd the harvest’s doneI see a lily on thy browWith anguish moist and fever-dewAnd on thy cheeks a fading roseFast withereth tooI met a lady in the meadsFull beautiful – a faery’s childHer hair was long, her foot was lightAnd her eyes were wildI made a garland for her headAnd bracelets too, and fragrant zoneShe looked at me as she did loveAnd made sweet moanI set her on my pacing steedAnd nothing else saw all day longFor sidelong would she bend, and singA faery’s songShe found me roots of relish sweetAnd honey wild, and manna-dewAnd sure in language strange she said‘I love thee true’She took me to her elfin grotAnd there she wept and sighed full soreAnd there I shut her wild, wild eyesWith kisses fourAnd there she lulled me asleepAnd there I dreamed – Ah, woe betide!The latest dream I ever dreamtOn the cold hill sideI saw pale kings and princes tooPale warriors, death-pale were they allThey cried – ‘La Belle Dame sans MerciHath thee in thrall!’I saw their starved lips in the gloamWith horrid warning gaped wideAnd I awoke and found me hereOn the cold hill’s sideAnd that is why I sojourn hereAlone and palely loiteringThough sedge is withered from the lakeAnd no birds sing www.pillowlyrics.com419786497975 88k 20