X. I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They criedโโLa Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!โ XI. I saw their starved lips in the gloam, With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke and found me here, On the cold hillโs side. XII. And this is why I sojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is witherโd from the lake, And no birds sing.
John KeatsO let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look; O let me for one moment touch her wrist; Let me one moment to her breathing list; And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.
John Keats