Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
She feels no biting pang the while she sings,
Nor read more

Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound;
She feels no biting pang the while she sings,
Nor as she turns the giddy wheel around,
Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things.

Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
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Listen to that song, and learn it!
Half my kingdom would I give,
As I live,
If by such songs you would earn it.

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
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And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps
Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring
That feels the Master Melody--and snaps.

Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.

Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.

I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.

I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute,
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci."

She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with
pity: and when winter evenings fall early read more

She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with
pity: and when winter evenings fall early (sitting at her merry
wheel), she sings a defiance to the giddy wheel of
fortune . . . and fears no manner of ill because she means none.

Builders, raise the ceiling high,
Raise the dome into the sky,
Hear the wedding song!
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Builders, raise the ceiling high,
Raise the dome into the sky,
Hear the wedding song!
For the happy groom is near,
Tall as Mars, and statelier,
Hear the wedding song!

And heaven had wanted one immortal song.

And heaven had wanted one immortal song.