<Tr> <Td> </Td> <Td> Some of this article's listed sources may not be reliable . Please help this article by looking for better, more reliable sources . Unreliable citations may be challenged or deleted . (August 2018) (Learn how and when to remove this template message) </Td> </Tr> <P> "La Belle Dame sans Merci" (French for "The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") is a ballad written by the English poet John Keats . It exists in two versions with minor differences between them . The original was written by Keats in 1819 . He used the title of the 15th - century La Belle Dame sans Mercy by Alain Chartier, though the plots of the two poems are different . </P> <P> The poem is considered an English classic, typical of other of Keats' works . It avoids simplicity of interpretation despite simplicity of structure . At only a short twelve stanzas, of only four lines each, with a simple ABCB rhyme scheme, the poem is nonetheless full of enigmas, and has been the subject of numerous interpretations . </P> <P> 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 - dew, And on thy cheeks a fading rose Fast withereth too . I met a lady in the meads, 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 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 lullèd 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 gapèd 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 . </P>

Oh what can ail thee knight at arms