More literary geekiness

[elaby]

Tiiiiiired O_o

I was reading Amber (again) and there was this part... where Corwin meets a woman in this desolate place where there are lakes. And she's first described as having wild eyes, and she says, "You must be hungry, Knight at arms." She gave him food and wanted him to wile pleasureably away the hours that remain (end of the world's coming, don't you know, you can see it coming over those mountains) and when he says no, she doesn't seem to mind. And Corwin responds, "I must confess that I fully expected you to invite me to a private party which would result in me alone and palely loitering on the cold side of some hill sometime hense were I to accept."

*quotes* "Then I closed her eyes with kisses four, so as not to break the charm, and I went and mounted Star ((that's his horse)). The sedge was not withered, but he was right about the no birds. Hell of a way to run a railroad, though."

At this point, elaby goes "... O_o Who's 'he'?"

So.

La Belle Dame sans Merci
John Keats
(1795--1821)

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

Oh 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 eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled 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!"

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.

Damn. Amber is SO COOL. As if they didn't have enough neat things already. Random Keats allusions.