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La Belle Dame Sans Merci

I

Oh what can ail thee, knightatarms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

II

Oh what can ail thee, knightatarms,
So haggard and so woebegone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

III

I…

Page 2

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For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery's song.

VII

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and mannadew,
And sure in language strange she said
'I love thee true'.

VIII

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,…

Page 3

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And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

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BluntedBlue2

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Very useful annotations, thanks!

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