. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. the lily maid of AstolatLay smiling, like a star in blackest night. But the wild Queen, who saw not, burst awayTo weep and wail in secret; and the barge,On to the palace-doorway sliding, two stood armd, and kept the door; to whom,All up the marble stair, tier over tier, 1240 Were added mouths that gaped, and eyes that askd,1 What is it ? but that oarsmans hag-gard face,As hard and still as is the face that menShape to their fancys eye from broken rocksOn some cliff-side, appalld them, and they said :1 He is enchanted, cannot
. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. the lily maid of AstolatLay smiling, like a star in blackest night. But the wild Queen, who saw not, burst awayTo weep and wail in secret; and the barge,On to the palace-doorway sliding, two stood armd, and kept the door; to whom,All up the marble stair, tier over tier, 1240 Were added mouths that gaped, and eyes that askd,1 What is it ? but that oarsmans hag-gard face,As hard and still as is the face that menShape to their fancys eye from broken rocksOn some cliff-side, appalld them, and they said :1 He is enchanted, cannot speak— and she,Look how she sleeps — the Fairy Queen, so fair !Yea, but how pale! what are they? flesh and blood ?Or come to take the King to Fairyland?For some do hold our Arthur cannot die, 1250 But that he passes into Fairyland. While thus they babbled of the King, the KingCame girt with knights. Then turnd the tongueless manFrom the half-face to the full eye, and roseAnd pointed to the damsel and the Arthur bade the meek Sir Percivale. LANCELOT AND ELAINE 5*i ^nd pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid;bid reverently they bore her into came the fine Gawain and won- derd at her,Ind Lancelot later came and mused ather, 1260 bid last the Queen herself, and pitied her;But Arthur spied the letter in her hand, Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it;this was all: 1 Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of theLake, I, sometimes calld the maid of Astolat,Come, for you left me taking no fare-well, •lither, to take my last farewell of you. I loved you, and my love had no re-turn,And therefore my true love has been my therefore to our Lady Guine-vere, 1270And to all other ladies, I make moan :Pray for my soul, and yield me for my soul thou too, Sir Lancelot,As thou art a knight peerless. Thus he read;And ever in the reading lords and damesfept, looking often from his face who readTo hers which lay so silent, and at times,So touchd were they, half-thin
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