“Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,Alone and palely loitering?”

“X.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!” XI.I saw their starved lips in the gloam, With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke and found me here, On the cold hill’s side. XII.And this is why I sojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing.”

“Already with thee! tender is the night. . .But here there is no light. . .”

“And we will shadeOurselves whole summers by a river glade;And I will tell thee stories of the sky,And breathe thee whispers of its minstrelsy,My happy love will overwing all bounds!O let me melt into thee! let the soundsOf our close voices marry at their birth;Let us entwine hoveringly!”

“I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky!How beautiful thou art!”

“But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wingsThat fill the sky with silver glitterings!”

“And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed,Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.”