Year Twelve Literature can be the bane of my existence some days and the only reason I get out of bed others. This afternoon was definitely one of those 'this is the only reason I got out of bed' days. We're studying fifteen of Keats' poems, starting with La belle dam sans merci and my class spent two hours deconstructing it! Best class of my life to date!
Australian Kiwi
P.S. I put the poem below. Read it! It's awesome! Also, the picture before the poem is my favorite visual interpretation of this poem. :)
"They cried 'La belle dame sans merci thee hath in thrall.'"
~ La belle dame sans merci by John Keats ~
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 lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever drew,
And on they 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:
And 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 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 sojoun here
Alone and palely loitering;
Though the sedge is wither'd from the Lake
and no birds sing -