Select poems of Tennyson, Browning and Arnold . # THE LADY OF SHALOTT 3 And the red cloaks of market girls,Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, 55 An abbot on an ambmig pad,Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,Or long-haird page in crimson clad. Goes by to towerd Camelot;And sometimes thro the mirror blue 60 The knights come riding two and two:She hath no loyal knight and true. The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirrors magic sights, 65 For often thro the silent nights A funeral with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot:Or when the moo
Select poems of Tennyson, Browning and Arnold . # THE LADY OF SHALOTT 3 And the red cloaks of market girls,Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, 55 An abbot on an ambmig pad,Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,Or long-haird page in crimson clad. Goes by to towerd Camelot;And sometimes thro the mirror blue 60 The knights come riding two and two:She hath no loyal knight and true. The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirrors magic sights, 65 For often thro the silent nights A funeral with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot:Or when the moon was two young lovers lately wed; 70 I am half sick of shadows, said The Lady of Shalott. A bow-shot from her bower eaves. He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzHng thro the leaves, 75 And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir red-cross knight for ever kneeldTo a lady in his shield,That sparkled on the yellow field, 80 Beside remote Shalott. TENNYSON. The gemmy bridle glitterd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy4^^*^^^-^/^^ *^*^^^ The bridle bells rang merrily ^ 85 As he rode down to Camelot:And from his blazond baldric slungA mighty silver bugle hung, ^^U-a^--^ And as he* rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. 90 All in the blue unclouded weatherThick-Jewelld shone the saddle-leatherThe helmet and the helmet-featherBurnd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. 95 As often thro the purple night,Below the starry clusters bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glowd; 100On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;From underneath his helmet flowdHis coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to the bank and from the river 105 He flashd into the crystal mirror,t-Tirra lirra, by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the made three paces thro the room,She saw the water-lily bl
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