The primrose murmured to the wind,
"Drink in my fair scent, and go
And tell the child you left behind,
Where I and hidden violets grow.

"Tell him the squirrels leap the boughs,
The woodpecker goes tap, tap, tap!
While baby rabbits sit and browse
Upon the green turf's mossy lap.

"Tell him that scarlet toadstools stain
The silent pathways through the wood,
The spider weaves a jewelled chain,
The busy ant's abroad for food.

"Then bid him" said the primrose, "come
To sing with us, and work and play,
To hear the wild bee's pleasant hum,
And be contented all the day."

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 looked at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

I set her on my paceing 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 sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dreamed-AH! woe betide

The latest dream I ever dreamed

On the cold hillside.

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 starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And awoke and found me lying 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.

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