La belle dame sans merci

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 -