THE LADY OF SHALOTT

>ray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
^ise like a fountain for me night and day.
?or what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
T, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend ?
7or so the whole round earth is every way
Sound by gold chains about the feet of God.
But now farewell. I am going a long way 10

i/Vith these thou seest—if indeed I go—
Tor all my mind is clouded with a doubt)
To the island-valley of Avilion ;
i/Vhere falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
STor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies
Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard-lawns
\nd bowery hollows crown3 d with summer sea,
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound."
So said he, and the barge with oar and sail
Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan 20
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere
Revolving many memories, till the hull
Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn,
on the mere the wailing died away.

LORD TENNYSON

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 ;
And thro' the field the road runs by 30
To many-tower'd Camelot;