La Belle Dame sans Merci: A Ballad
John Keats
1795 to 1821
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Thee hath in thrall!'
Full beautiful—a faery's child,
She took me to her Elfin grot,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
And sure in language strange she said—
And no birds sing.
They cried—'La Belle Dame sans Merci
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
The squirrel's granary is full,
A faery's song.
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And her eyes were wild.
Alone and palely loitering,
On the cold hill's side.
With horrid warning gapèd wide,
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
On the cold hill side.
And made sweet moan
And no birds sing.
Alone and palely loitering?
Fast withereth too.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
And there she lullèd me asleep,
The sedge has withered from the lake,
The latest dream I ever dreamt
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With kisses four.
I met a lady in the meads,
She looked at me as she did love,
I saw pale kings and princes too,
'I love thee true'.
And I awoke and found me here,
I set her on my pacing steed,
I made a garland for her head,
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
And this is why I sojourn here,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,