La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Ben Whishaw Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

I.

O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

II.

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.

III.

I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

IV.

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.

V.

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. 20

VI.

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.

VII.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
"I love thee true."

VIII.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept, and sigh'd fill sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

IX.

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.

X.

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!"

XI.

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.

XII.

And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,




Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Overall Meaning

In Ben Whishaw's song "La Belle Dame Sans Merci," he recites the famous poem by John Keats, which tells the story of a knight who meets a beautiful lady in the meads, who he believes to be a faery's child. The knight is bewitched by her wild eyes and sets out to make her happy by creating a garland for her head, bracelets, and a fragrant zone. She looks at him with affection and makes sweet moan, and he sets her on his pacing steed. She takes him to her elfin grot, where she weeps and sighs. The knight falls asleep and dreams of seeing pale kings, princes, and warriors, who cry out that the lady has him in thrall. He awakens alone on a cold hill's side and realizes that the lady has left him alone, and he is still bewitched by her beauty.


The lyrics convey the idea that love and beauty can be harmful and destructive. The knight is poisoned by the lady's love, and he is left alone, pale, and loitering on a cold hill's side. The poem's title "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" translates to "The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy," and it warns of the dangers of being enchanted by something that is ultimately harmful.


Line by Line Meaning

O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
What is troubling you, armored knight,


Alone and palely loitering?
wandering by yourself with a pale appearance?


The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
The reeds around the lake are dry and dead,


And no birds sing.
A silence prevails with the absence of singing birds.


So haggard and so woe-begone?
looking exhausted and full of sorrow?


The squirrel's granary is full,
the squirrels have stored a bountiful harvest,


And the harvest's done.
the season’s work is complete.


I see a lily on thy brow
I notice a lily on your forehead


With anguish moist and fever dew,
it's wet with tears of sorrow and perspiration.


And on thy cheeks a fading rose
The roses on your cheeks are wilting and dying.


Full beautiful—a faery's child,
An enchanting creature, a child of the faeries,


Her hair was long, her foot was light,
She had long hair, and she was nimble on her feet.


And her eyes were wild.
Her eyes were full of life and vigor.


She look'd at me as she did love,
She looked at me with affection,


And made sweet moan.
And she sang sweetly.


And nothing else saw all day long,
I saw nothing else all day.


For sidelong would she bend, and sing
She’d bend sideways while she sang.


She found me roots of relish sweet,
She found me some tasty roots,


And honey wild, and manna dew,
Along with wild honey and dew from heaven.


And sure in language strange she said—
In a peculiar language she told me certainly


“I love thee true.”
I genuinely love you.


And there she wept, and sigh'd full sore,
And there she wept, and sighed bitterly.


With kisses four.
I kissed her four times.


And there she lulled me asleep,
There she put me to sleep,


And there I dream'd—Ah! woe betide!
And there I dreamed, oh no!


The latest dream I ever dream'd
The last dream I ever imagined


On the cold hill's side.
On the side of a cold hill


Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Pale soldiers, all with a ghostly pallor;


They cried—“La Belle Dame sans Merci
They cried out - “The beautiful Lady without Mercy,


Hath thee in thrall!”
Has captured you completely!”


With horrid warning gaped wide,
Their mouths opened wide with a terrible warning,


And I awoke and found me here,
I woke up, and I found myself here


On the cold hill's side.
on the side of a cold hill.


Alone and palely loitering,
Wandering around by myself with a pale, sad expression,


Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
Even though the reeds at the lake have withered away,


And no birds sing.
And no birds are singing.




Contributed by Landon C. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

Joseph Ledux

I first read this poem in (of all places) prison. Someone sent me a poetry collection. I wasn't really into poetry but when you live in a 4x8 cage believe me you'll read anything.

That book getting sent to me was one of the best things that ever happened to me in my life.

I remember my first time reading this poem, and when I got to the "_La Belle Dame sans Merci_" line the hairs stood up on my arms and the back of my neck. I'm Cajun so of course I knew what the title of the poem translated to. But I sure as hell wasn't expecting that!

If one didn't know any better, he could be forgiven for guessing this story comes out of one of Tolkien's books about Middle-Earth. Without doubt Tolkien would have studied the poem at some point in his education and I like to think that it helped a little bit in laying the ground for the world that came out of Tolkien's mind later.

It was one of the most powerful things I've ever experienced. Quite aside from the language, which is brilliant, the poem is also remarkable because it tells a complete -- and quite disturbing -- story in a few short lines. One of the most skilled uses of language I've ever seen.

The reason this poem and many others work so well for Ben Whishaw is because he tells it with sensitivity and vulnerability. So many men are afraid to let that aspect of their personalities show. Whishaw also does a very good job reading the poetry of Wilfried Owen. Despite the fact that Owen's poetry addresses the sickening horror of his experiences on the battlefield in WW1, the central theme is of the fragility and vulnerability of the men, such as himself, who were thrown into that meatgrinder. His poetry simply wouldn't sound right being read by some gruff-voiced macho man type. Whishaw is perfect for it.

Look up Whishaw's reading of Owen's "Dulce et decorum est" but, I warn you, not if you have a weak stomach.

Note* Wilfried Owen was a British infantry officer who served with great courage in the trenches of WW1, while still not allowing the experience to coarsen him. His poetry was sensitive, perceptive, even delicate. Which again is why Whishaw is perfect to read it. Owen was killed in combat by German machinegun fire at almost the last possible moment before the war ended. His poetry was published posthumously and he's regarded the greatest poet of that war.



Dzalfa Humaira

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 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;
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
Thee hath 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.



Shailesh Ramanuj

La Belle Dame sans Merci: A Ballad
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-dew,
And on thy 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;
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
Thee hath 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.
================================================
@svramanuj



All comments from YouTube:

X D

I wish Ben would record an audiobook of him reading Keats' poems. He's got such a lovely, soothing, expressive voice.

Serdihun Teronpi

@FragGangz me too

FragGangz

@Serdihun Teronpi im only here because of school

Serdihun Teronpi

Yeah...

ShalomNtube777

2020 anyone?? I fell in love with this poem in my secondary school english literature class. Back in Cameroon, west Africa. It is so beautiful. ❤ lt transcends time and space. 😊

ShalomNtube777

@Víp Àñúrâg ❤️

ShalomNtube777

@OM PRAKASH YADAV Love right back ❤️

Víp Àñúrâg

2022

OM PRAKASH YADAV

In 2012, i studied that poem in senior secondary school & then i became a fan of keat's.
Love From India 🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳

ShalomNtube777

@Yorkshire Batty O wow!! That's lovely to know. ☺️

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