.
La Belle Dame sans Merci: Dane Gabriel Rossetti, c.1855 (British Museum)
O what can ail thee, knight at arms,
..Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
..And no birds sing.
..Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
..And no birds sing.
Lady Affixing Pennant to a Knight's Spear: Elizabeth Siddal, 1861
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.
Fairy Feller's Master Stroke: Richard Dadd, 1855-1864 (Tate Gallery)
I see a lily on thy brow
..With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
..Fast withereth too.
..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.
..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 look'd at me as she did love,
..And made sweet moan.
..And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She 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 fairy's song.
..And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
..A fairy's song.
La Belle Dame sans Merci: Frank Bernard Dicksee, 1890
She found me roots of relish sweet,
..And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
..I love thee true.
..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 sigh'd full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
..With kisses four.
..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 dream'd
..On the cold hill's side.
..And there I dream'd—Ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
..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 merci
..Hath thee in thrall!"
..Pale warriors, death pale were they all;
They cried—"La belle dame sans merci
..Hath thee 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.
..With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here
..On the cold hill's side.
La Belle Dame sans Merci: Frank Cadogan Cowper, 1926
And this is why I sojourn here,
..Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
..And no birds sing.
..Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
..And no birds sing.
La Belle Dame sans Merci: artist unknown, from Punch, or The London Charivari, Volume 159, 1 December 1920
La Belle Dame sans Merci: A Ballad: John Keats, 21 April 1819