Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure; Thou wilt never come for pity, Thou wilt come for pleasure; Pity then will cut away Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
He played an ancient ditty, long since mute, In Provence called,'La belle dame sans mercy'.john keats
He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute, In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."john keats
Hear the mellow wedding bells, Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten golden notes, And all in tune What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens while she gloats On the moon!
He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute, In Provence call'd "La belle dame sans mercy."john keats