Ballad · British Culture · Classic · English Literature · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry · Romanticism · Victorian

John Keats

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

— John Keats, from “La Belle Dame Sans Merci, The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy.” (1819)

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