And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill’s side.
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!”