La Belle Dame Sans Merci

[Raylan]

La Belle Dame Sans Merci (1819)
John Keats

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

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.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said –
‘I love thee true’.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed – Ah! woe betide! –
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried— ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Thee hath in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gapèd 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.

[Red Gauntlet , SASS 60619]

Keats is good.

 

I've always liked this, from The Eve of St. Agnes:

 

Anon his heart revives: her vespers done,
Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees;
Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one;
Loosens her fragrant bodice; by degrees
Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees....

[Subdeacon Joe]

Unfortunately this is one of the poems that is, or was, in just about every high school English book.  I  believe that the purpose of the poetry unit in English classes is to squelch any hint of appreciation of poetry out of students.   See "Dead Poets Society."  

[Red Gauntlet , SASS 60619]

With this, Joe, I cannot agree. My own high school English classes gave me a life-long love of poetry. Of course, the teachers have something to do with it...

[Subdeacon Joe]

1 hour ago, Red Gauntlet , SASS 60619 said:

With this, Joe, I cannot agree. My own high school English classes gave me a life-long love of poetry. Of course, the teachers have something to do with it...

 

I'll agree that a lot has to do with the school district and teacher.  Mine were all about hammering the meter, and "Why did the author write it this way?" and "What was the author trying to say?"  a la
 

 

[Ozark Huckleberry]

Hickory dickory dock.

The TO started the clock.

When I heard the beep,

My brain went to sleep,

And the penalties started to flock.

 

Hickory dickory dee.

There was a P, some M's, and MSV.

And after the bangs

(And some fewer clangs,)

The spotters were laughing at me.

[Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474]

I still prefer Robert Service, thanks.

[Birdgun Quail, SASS #63663]

23 hours ago, Subdeacon Joe said:

Unfortunately this is one of the poems that is, or was, in just about every high school English book.  I  believe that the purpose of the poetry unit in English classes is to squelch any hint of appreciation of poetry out of students.   See "Dead Poets Society."  

Same here. 

I learned to have little to no appreciation for poetry in High School.  Then after I retired from the Army, at age 42, I went to college.  Had an English 102 teacher that was the type you wanted to bring her an apple.  I was talking with this good teacher and she told me our next subject was going to be poetry.  I went, UGGGggg!   The good teacher asked me why I didn't like poetry.  I gave her some lame answer. 

She then asked me, "Do you like music?"

I said, "Yes."  Most of it."

She asked, "What do you like and don't like?"

I told her my likes and dislikes.

The good teacher asked me same questions about graphic art.

I gave her my answers.

Then the wise teacher said this to me.  "As you like and dislike music and art.  Why don't you do the same with poetry?  You don't have to like it all.  Find what you like and dislike.  Then enjoy what you like."

It was as though a whole new room full of goodies was opened to me.  I found there is a lot of poetry I liked!

 

Here's one that tickles me.

Judged by the Company One Keeps

by Anonymous

 

One night in late October,
When I was far from sober,
Returning with my load with manly pride,
My feet began to stutter,
So I lay down in the gutter,
And a pig came near and lay down by my side.
 

A lady passing by was heard to say:
"You can tell a man who boozes,
By the company he chooses,"
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

 

 

 

[Birdgun Quail, SASS #63663]

36 minutes ago, Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474 said:

I still prefer Robert Service, thanks.

 

Oh, please listen to this man's rendition of this Robert Service poem.  Masterful.

 

 

[Dawg Hair, SASS #29557]

Oh, my! 

[Cold Lake Kid, SASS # 51474]

Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew are(or were) school literature staples here in Canada.

My collection of his works gets pulled out from time to time and some of us have entertained the bush hunt camps with recitations.

 

The Spell of the Yukon series of poems, Rhymes of a Rolling Stone, Bar-Room Ballads and the Ballads of a Cheechako always struck a cord with my Father and I, coming from and living in the area where they were written or speak of. 

My uncle Ernie, a WWI vet often read the ones captured in the series Rhymes of a Red Cross Man.

[DeaconKC]

From my Uncle Carlos and my Dad

"What I want is a girl so big and fat,

that when you go to hug her,

you don't know where you're at.

 

So you take a piece of chalk in your hand,

and you make a mark where you began.

 

One day I was huggin' and a chalkin'

and beggin' her to be my bride.

I met a feller with a piece of chalk in his hand.

Oh Lordy, comin' round the other side."