Amy H. Sturgis (eldritchhobbit) wrote,
Amy H. Sturgis

  • Music:

"death-pale were they all"

First, some links to share:

** sneezythesquid reminded me of the wonderful 30-Second Bunnies Theatre Library, which includes "retellings" of some classic Halloween-friendly films, such as The Exorcist, Night of the Living Dead, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, among others. Take a peek: these stories take on new life when retold by a troupe of animated bunnies in 30 seconds!

** One of the creepiest public service announcements ever must be 1973's "Lonely Water," in which Donald Pleasance voices the "Spirit of the Water," who is portrayed as a Grim Reaper figure, waiting to claim unsuspecting children who didn't practice safety while at play. View it here.

** For information on the origins of Halloween, as well as recipes, video clips, and related DVDs, visit the History Channel's "History of Halloween" site.

And now, back to the countdown. According to the Edmonton Journal, the second scariest poem of all time is "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" by John Keats (1819). (To see some excellent examples of the Pre-Raphaelites' paintings based on this poem, go here.)

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.
Tags: halloween

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