Oh 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 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 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 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
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 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.
When the title is translated, “The Beautiful Lady with out Pity”, says it all about the poem. The poem is about a beat up knight who comes in contact with a beautiful and wild failry looking woman. This woman then takes the knight to her “elfin grot” where she woos her knight. Being tired, the knight falls asleep and has dreams about “pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried – ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!”. When he awakes from his dream filled slumber, he finds himself on the same “cold hill’s side” laying there sick and pale. I absolutely love this poem because Keats uses such grand imagery. When reading this poem I can picture perfectly a cool day with a handsome knight who is sick and then meets a beautiful almost mythical looking woman, and then the entire poem is turned around to this twisted ending where the beautiful woman takes advantage of the knight and leaves him to die with the rest of the men who she has done this with. This poem is just not something to read and think it sounds pretty. It is much more than that…It is a beautiful story than ends in something that we do not expect. It questions our instinct on first impresions.