La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats

A Ballad

 O What can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the Lake,

And no birds sing.

Oh what can al thee, knight-at-arms,

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 made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A faery's song.

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 wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep

And there i dreamed - Ah! woe betide!

The latest dream I ever dreamt

on the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,

pale warriors, death - pale were they all;

They cried - 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci'

Thee hath in thrall'

I saw their staved lips in the gloam,

With Horrid warning Gaped wide,

And i awoke and found me here,

on the cold hill's side.

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Poetry Analysis