La Belle Dame sans Merci ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") is a ballad produced by the English poet John Keats in 1819. The title was derived from the title of a 15th-century poem by Alain Chartier called La Belle Dame sans Mercy.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge is wither'd from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,

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 cheek 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 set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sideways would she lean, and sing

A faery’s song.

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.

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 gaz'd and sighed deep,

And there I shut her wild sad eyes

So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,

And there I dream'd, ah woe betide!—

The latest dream I ever dream'd

On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

Who cry'd—'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.

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing. 

by John Keats, 1819, 1820: revised version.