3. I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too. 4. 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. 5. I set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long; For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery's song. 6. I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; She look'd at me as she did love, And made sweet moan. 7. She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew; And sure in language strange she said, I love thee true. 8. She took me to her elfin grot, And there she gaz'd and sighed deep, And there I shut her wild sad eyes — So kiss'd to sleep. 9. And there we slumber'd on the moss, The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill-side. IO. I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cry'd-"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!" * 45. II. I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam On the cold hill-side. 12. And this is why I sojourn here Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing. Sonnet. WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, Of unreflecting love; - then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink. Buxton Forman's Text. 46. CHARLES LAMB. The Old Familiar Faces. WHERE are they gone, the old familiar faces? I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school days All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I have been laughing, I have been carousing, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. I lov'd a love once, fairest among women; Clos'd are her doors on me, I must not see her — All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. |