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And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turned to towered Camelot;

For ere she reached upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,

By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale 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 crossed themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:

But Lancelot mused a little space;

He said, "She has a lovely face;

God in His mercy lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott."

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892]

SONG

From "Paracelsus "

OVER the sea our galleys went,

With cleaving prows in order brave
To a speeding wind and a bounding wave-
A gallant armament:

Song

It out of a forest-tree

nd rough as first it grew,
over the gaping sides,
ithout, with black bull-hides,
and suppled in flame,
layful billows' game;
I ship was rude to see,
re to the outward view,
pbore a stately tent
pales in scented row

e flakes of the dancing brine,
ing drooped the mast below,
old of the purple fine,

r noontide nor star-shine
ght cold which maketh mad,
erce the regal tenement.
un dawned, oh, gay and glad
sail and plied the oar;
the night-wind blew like breath,
one day's voyage more,
ogether on the wide sea,

at peace on a peaceful shore;
was loosed to the wind so free,
n made sure by the twilight star,
sleep as calm as death,
Voyagers from afar,

retched along, each weary crew

le round its wondrous tent

gleamed soft light and curled rich scent,

ith light and perfume, music too:

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tars wheeled round, and the darkness passed, morn we started beside the mast, ll each ship was sailing fast!

ne morn, land appeared-a speck
embling betwixt sea and sky:
I it," cried our pilot, "check
shout, restrain the eager eye!"
e heaving sea was black behind
iny a night and many a day,

And land, though but a rock, drew nigh;
So we broke the cedar pales away,

Let the purple awning flap in the wind,

And a statue bright was on every deck!
We shouted, every man of us,

And steered right into the harbor thus,
With pomp and pæan glorious.

A hundred shapes of lucid stone!
All day we built its shrine for each,
A shrine of rock for every one,
Nor paused till in the westering sun
We sat together on the beach
To sing because our task was done;
When lo! what shouts and merry songs!
What laughter all the distance stirs!
A loaded raft with happy throngs
Of gentle islanders!

"Our isles are just at hand," they cried,
"Like cloudlets faint in even sleeping;
Our temple-gates are opened wide,

Our olive-groves thick shade are keeping
For these majestic forms "--they cried.
Oh, then we awoke with sudden start
From our deep dream, and knew, too late,
How bare the rock, how desolate,
Which had received our precious freight:
Yet we called out-"Depart!

Our gifts, once given, must here abide:

Our work is done; we have no heart
To mar our work," we cried.

Robert Browning (1812-1889]

THE SWIMMERS

WE were eight fishers of the western sea,

Who sailed our craft beside a barren land,

Where harsh with pines the herdless mountains stand

And lonely beaches be.

The Swimmers

dwells, and ships go seldom past;
mes there we lift our keels ashore,
safety 'mid the broken roar
1 mist of surges vast.

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we know, remote from all the rest,
and south the cliffs are high and steep,
ked leagues of rock repel the deep,
surgent from the west.

ies, untrodden o'er by man,

en from storm we sought its narrow rift
h our craft and light a fire of drift
And sleep till day began.

sands no flower nor bird has home.
its breast, girt by no splendor save
horled and poising emerald of the wave
And scarves of rustling foam-

of solemn beauty; yet we swore,
l the ocean stars' unhasting flight,
cek no refuge for another night
Upon that haunted shore.

year a sombre autumn held the earth. lawn we sailed from out our village bay; sang; a taut wind leapt along the day; The sea-birds mocked our mirth.

hwest we drave, like arrows to a mark;
e set of sun the coast was far to lee,
here thundered over by the white-hooved sea
The reefs lie gaunt and dark.

when we would have cast our hooks, the main Grew wroth a-sudden, and our captain said: Seek we a shelter." And the west was red

God gave his winds the rein.

And eastward lay the sands of which I told;
Thither we fled, and on the narrow beach
Drew up our keels beyond the lessening reach
Of waters green and cold.

Then set the wounded sun. The wind blew clean
The skies. A wincing star came forth at last.
We heard like mighty tollings in the blast
The shock of waves unseen.

The wide-winged Eagle hovered overhead;
The Scorpion crept slowly in the south
To pits below the horizon; in its mouth
Lay a young moon that bled,

And from our fire the ravished flame swept back,
Like yellow hair of one who flies apace,
Compelled in lands barbarian to race
With lions on her track.

Then from the maelstroms of the surf arose
Wild laughter, mystical, and up the sands
Came Two that walked with intertwining hands
Amid those ocean snows.

Ghostly they gleamed before the lofty spray-
Fairer than gods and naked as the moon,
The foamy fillets at their ankles strewn
Less marble-white than they.

Laughing they stood, then to our beacon's flare
Drew nearer, as we watched in mad surprise
The scarlet-flashing lips, the sea-green eyes,
The red and tangled hair.

Then spoke the god (goddess and god they seemed),
In harp-like accents of a tongue unknown-
About his brows the dripping locks were blown;
Like wannest gold he gleamed.

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