Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/258

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 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 is this is why I sojourn here,
 * Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
 * And no birds sing.

1819.

 

a Sabbath-day it fell; Twice holy was the Sabbath-bell. That call'd the folk to evening prayer; The city streets were clean and fair From wholesome drench of April rains; And, on the western window panes, 