Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering;
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
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 set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

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

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 gaz'd and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes--
So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,
And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"

I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
On the cold hill side.

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

bievenue sieur! bro, i'm glad u've contributed in this area! Thanx for sharing such grand stuff... The poem's meanings are deep... life does not remain the same for always.... v all definitely are mortals.



The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows!

There was a door to which I found no Key;
There was a Veil past which I could not see:
Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seem'd--and then no more of Thee and Me.

True, death is inevitable.

~"....zindagi mein to koi cheez anokhee na rahee,
maut hee aik nayee baat nazar aatee hai..."


Regards,


THE 1

Assalam-o-Alikum!

@THE 1
Hi HONEY,
May Allah always keep you sound.1st of all, thanks for calling me Bro. After such a long time I have heard something sweet like this on this forum.

Lo ! some we loved, the loveliest and best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest

Adios

bonjour again sieur,
i call ev1 bro, its my style, you don't have to be flabbergasted...


this one's one o' my favourites:

" But GOD the Just and Strong!
Our morn of freedom sends
And should our hopes be wrong,
Still martyrdom, still death, our trial ends!"

nothing could be as fortunate as the death of a martyr...



Regards,

THE 1