Perhaps her teeth are not the fairest pearl; SONG. The stranger lighted from his steed, II. The stranger walk'd into the hall, III. The stranger walk'd into the bower,- Aye hand in hand into the bower IV. My lady's maid had a silken scarf And a golden ring had she, And a kiss from the stranger, as off he went Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl! My sudden adoration, my great love! 1818. BALLAD. LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI. O I. WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms, The sedge has wither'd from the lake, II. O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, And the harvest 's done. III.. I see a lily on thy brow With anguish moist and fever dew, Fast withereth too. IV. I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful-a faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, V. I made a garland for her head, VI. I set her on my pacing steed, VII. She found me roots of relish sweet, VIII. She took me to her elfin grot, And there she wept and sigh'd full sore, And there I shut her wild wild eyes With kisses four. IX. And there she lulled me asleep, And there I dream'd-ah! woe betide! The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill's side. X. I saw pale kings and princes too, XI. I saw their starved lips in the gloam, 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. FRAGMENTS. TO REYNOLDS. "I was led into these thoughts, my dear Reynolds, by the beauty of the morning operating on a sense of idleness. I have not read any books the morning said I was right. I had no idea but of the morning, and the thrush said I was right, seeming to say-(Letter to Reynolds, Feb., 1818) O THOU whose face hath felt the Winter's Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist W HERE'S the Poet? show him! show him, 'Tis the man who with a man Is an equal, be he King, |