Seeing all his own mischance-
With a glassy countenance

Did she look to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott.

Lying robed in snowy white

That loosely flew to left and right-
The leaves upon her falling light-
Through the noises of the night

She floated down to Camelot;
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,

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Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her blood was frozen slowly,

And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turned to towered Camelot,

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.

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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."

CENONE

There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.

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The swimming vapor slopes athwart the Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine

glen,

caves

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mountain brooks,

I am the daughter of a River-God,
Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all
My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls
Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, 40
A cloud that gathered shape; for it may be
That, while I speak of it, a little while
My heart may wander from its deeper woe.