...My morning trek through the interworld finds me discovering an interpretation by one of my favorite painters of a work by one of my favorite poets; neither of which was I heretofore familiar with. In short, my first words of the day: "Fuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk....."
![smile smile](https://cdn.newbienudes.com/_common/modules/emoji/images/smile.gif)
!
La Belle Dame Sans Merci, by John Williams Waterhouse (1893):
![](http://images.tribe.net/tribe/upload/photo/257/e60/257e6021-c8fc-49f2-8e75-646203d98ee0)
La Belle Dame Sans Merci, by John Keats (1812):
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Oh 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 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 the 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 dreamt
On the cold hill side.
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 I awoke and found me 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.
Gyod, I love the imagery and the deliberately awkward pentameter he creates...I am yet again fascinated by this poet, who deigned to leave us with such a volume of amazing work in such a short period. ("whos name was writ in water..."
![wink wink](https://cdn.newbienudes.com/_common/modules/emoji/images/wink.gif)
Sigh.
Happy browsing,
- Mr. S.