From underneath his helmet flow'd As he rode down to Camelot. Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, -innocence man She saw the water-lily bloom, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; ine PART IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Over tower'd Camelot ; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote And down the river's dim expanse— Seeing all his own mischance With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay ; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white Shroud That loosely flew to left and right— The leaves upon her falling light Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot : And as the boat-head wound along Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot ; For ere she reach'd upon the tide Singing in her song she died, Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, A corse between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer ; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot : But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; MARIANA IN THE SOUTH. I. WITH One black shadow at its feet, The house thro' all the level shines, And shallows on a distant shore, In glaring sand and inlets bright. But "Ave Mary," made she moan, And "Ave Mary," night and morn, And "Ah," she sang, "to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn." |