Justine Mariiie, John Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci
published on: 2012-12-24 12:32:36
Confessions of the Flesh.
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever-dew.
I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful - a faery’s child,
Little Red Boudica.
Boho Boudica.