LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

Headpiece Page 388

Headpiece Page 388

BY JOHN KEATS

WITH A PICTURE BY PAUL MEYLAN

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-armsSo haggard and so woebegone?The squirrel’s granary is full,And the harvest’s done.I see a lily on thy browWith anguish moist and fever-dew,And on thy cheeks a fading roseFast withereth too.I met a lady in the mead,Full beautiful—a fairy’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 steedAnd nothing else saw all day long,For sidelong would she bend, and singA fairy 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 eyesWith kisses four.And there she lullèd me asleep,And there I dreamed—ah! woe betide!The latest dream I ever dreamedOn the cold hill’s side.I saw pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all:They cried, “La belle dame sans merciHath thee in thrall!”I saw their starved lips in the gloamWith horrid warning gapèd wide,And I awoke and found me hereOn the cold hill’s side.And this is why I sojourn hereAlone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is withered from the lake,And no birds sing.

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-armsSo haggard and so woebegone?The squirrel’s granary is full,And the harvest’s done.I see a lily on thy browWith anguish moist and fever-dew,And on thy cheeks a fading roseFast withereth too.I met a lady in the mead,Full beautiful—a fairy’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 steedAnd nothing else saw all day long,For sidelong would she bend, and singA fairy 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 eyesWith kisses four.And there she lullèd me asleep,And there I dreamed—ah! woe betide!The latest dream I ever dreamedOn the cold hill’s side.I saw pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all:They cried, “La belle dame sans merciHath thee in thrall!”I saw their starved lips in the gloamWith horrid warning gapèd wide,And I awoke and found me hereOn the cold hill’s side.And this is why I sojourn hereAlone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is withered from the lake,And no birds sing.

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,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Oh, what can ail thee, knight-at-armsSo haggard and so woebegone?The squirrel’s granary is full,And the harvest’s done.

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

So haggard and so woebegone?

The squirrel’s granary is full,

And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy browWith anguish moist and fever-dew,And on thy cheeks a fading roseFast withereth too.

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 mead,Full beautiful—a fairy’s child,Her hair was long, her foot was light,And her eyes were wild.

I met a lady in the mead,

Full beautiful—a fairy’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 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 steedAnd nothing else saw all day long,For sidelong would she bend, and singA fairy song.

I set her on my pacing steed

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A fairy 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 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 eyesWith kisses four.

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 lullèd me asleep,And there I dreamed—ah! woe betide!The latest dream I ever dreamedOn the cold hill’s side.

And there she lullèd me asleep,

And there I dreamed—ah! woe betide!

The latest dream I ever dreamed

On the cold hill’s side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all:They cried, “La belle dame sans merciHath thee in thrall!”

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 gloamWith horrid warning gapèd wide,And I awoke and found me hereOn the cold hill’s side.

I saw their starved lips in the gloam

With horrid warning gapèd wide,

And I awoke and found me here

On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn hereAlone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is withered from the lake,And no birds sing.

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Tailpiece Page 388

Drawn by Paul Meylan. Half-tone plate engraved by C. W. Chadwick.LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI“I set her on my pacing steedAnd nothing else saw all day long.”—KEATS.❏LARGER IMAGE

Drawn by Paul Meylan. Half-tone plate engraved by C. W. Chadwick.

LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

“I set her on my pacing steedAnd nothing else saw all day long.”—KEATS.

“I set her on my pacing steedAnd nothing else saw all day long.”—KEATS.

“I set her on my pacing steed

And nothing else saw all day long.”—KEATS.

❏LARGER IMAGE


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