
La Belle Dame Sans Merci (John Keats, 1819)
Britpop, British accent, jangly, wistful, male vocals, lo-fi, earnest, catchy
May 23rd, 2024suno
Lyrics
[Hook]
[Break]
[Verse 1]
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
[Verse 2]
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.
[Solo]
[Verse 3]
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
[Verse 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.
[Solo]
[Verse 5]
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.
[Verse 6]
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.
[Solo]
[Verse 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.
[Verse 8]
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.
[Solo]
[Verse 8]
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.
[Instrumental chorus]
[Verse 9]
And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
[Verse 10]
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!’
[Solo]
[Verse 10]
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!’
[Solo]
[Verse 11]
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.
[Verse 12]
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
[Solo]
[Coda]
[Solo]
[Solo]
[Coda]
[End]
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