La Belle Dame Sans Merci Giordano Dall'Armellina

La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Giordano Dall'Armellina;
Old Time Ballads From The British Isles

La Belle Dame Sans Merci is a ballad written by poet John Keats in 1819.
The paintings I used are works from John Waterhouse, Arthur Hughes, Walter Crane, Frank Cadogan Cowper, Frank Dicksee, Henry Meynell Rheam, W.J.Neatby, and one unknown.


O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has witherd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms!
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrels granary is full,
And the harvests done.

I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faerys 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 lookd 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 faerys 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 sighd fill sore,
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep,
And there I dreamd—Ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamd
On the cold hills side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hills side.

And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is witherd from the lake,
And no birds sing.