SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY

Or long-hair *d page in crimson clad,

Goes by to tower'd 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 mirror's 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 overhead,

Came two young lovers lately wed; 70

'I am half sick of shadows/ said

The Ladv of Shalott.

Part III.
A BOW-SHOT from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, ^e
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneelM
To a lady in his shield.
That sparkled on the yellow field, So
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot.:
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