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.
John KeatsA thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
John KeatsTheir woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne.
John Keats