Dark-blue the deep sphere overhead, In cool soft turf upon the bank, 90 Thence thro' the garden I was drawn 100 A realm of pleasance, many a mound, And many a shadow-chequer'd lawn And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round. Thick rosaries of scented thorn, Six columns, three on either side, Throne of the massive ore, from which With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold. Sole star of all that place and time, 150 THE LADY OF SHALOTT. PART I. ON either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; To many-tower'd Camelot ; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, And the silent isle imbowers By the margin, willow-veil'd, Skimming down to Camelot : But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? 20 Only reapers, reaping early Down to tower'd Camelot : PART II. THERE she weaves by night and day A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, And moving thro' a mirror clear Winding down to Camelot : There the river eddy whirls, Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, And sometimes thro' the mirror blue But in her web she still delights And music, went to Camelot : PART III. A BOW-SHOT from her bower-eaves, A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot : And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. |