La
Belle Dame Sans Merci
by John Keats
|
| O what can ail thee Knight at arms, |
| Alone and palely
loitering ? |
| The sedge has withered from the Lake |
And no birds sing !
|
| O what can ail thee Knight at arms, |
| So haggard, and so woe-begone
? |
| The squirrel’s granary is full |
And the harvest’s done.
|
| I see a lilly on the 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 look’d 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
sigh’d full sore, |
| And there I shut her wild wild eyes
|
With kisses four.
|
| And there she lulled me asleep, |
| And there I dream’d, 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 starv’d 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.
|
| John Keats |
Classic Poems |
| |
|
[ La Belle Dame Sans Merci ] [ Ode to a Nightingale ] [ Ode on a Grecian Urn ] [ Ode on Indolence ] [ Ode to Psyche ] [ Ode on Melancholy ] [ Ode to autumn ] |
