La Belle Dame Sans Merci
La Belle Dame sans Merci is a French word actually means “ The Beautiful Lady without Pity”. It is actually a ballad written by English poet John Keats. The original was written by Keats in 1819, although the title is that of a fifteenth century poem by Alain Chartier.
The poem describes the encounter between an unnamed knight and a mysterious woman who is said to be "a fairy's child". It opens with a description of the knight in a barren landscape, "haggard" and "woe-be gone". He tells the reader how he met a beautiful lady whose "eyes were wild"; he set her on his horse and she took him to her "elfin grot", where she "wept, and sigh' d full sore". Falling asleep, the knight had a vision of "pale kings and princes", who cried, "La Belle Dame sans Merci hath thee in thrall!" He awoke to find himself on the same "cold hill's side" after which he continues to wait and "palely loitering".
alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has witherd from the lake
and no birds sing
so haggard and woebegone?
The squirrel's granary is full
and the harvests done
with anguish moist and fever dew
and on thy cheeks a fading rose
fast withereth too
Full beautiful - a faery's child
her hair was long, her foot was light
and her eyes were wild
and bracelets too and fragrant zone
she looked at me as she did love
and made sweet moan
and nothing else saw all day long
For sidelong would she bend and sing
A faery's song
And honey wild, and manna dew
And sure in language strange she said
'I love thee true'
and there she wept and sighed full sore
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
with kisses four
and there I dreamed Ah woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamt
on the cold hillside
Pale warriors, death pale were they all
They cried 'La Belle Dam Sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
with horrid warning gaped wide
And I awoke and found me here
on the cold hillside
alone and palely loitering
Though the sedge has withered from the lake
and no birds sing.
alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has witherd from the lake
and no birds sing
so haggard and woebegone?
The squirrel's granary is full
and the harvests done
with anguish moist and fever dew
and on thy cheeks a fading rose
fast withereth too
Full beautiful - a faery's child
her hair was long, her foot was light
and her eyes were wild
and bracelets too and fragrant zone
she looked at me as she did love
and made sweet moan
and nothing else saw all day long
For sidelong would she bend and sing
A faery's song
And honey wild, and manna dew
And sure in language strange she said
'I love thee true'
and there she wept and sighed full sore
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
with kisses four
and there I dreamed Ah woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamt
on the cold hillside
Pale warriors, death pale were they all
They cried 'La Belle Dam Sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'
with horrid warning gaped wide
And I awoke and found me here
on the cold hillside
alone and palely loitering
Though the sedge has withered from the lake
and no birds sing.