A red-cross knight for ever kneeled
To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glittered 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;
And, from his blazoned baldric slung,
A mighty silver bugle hung;
And as he rode his armor rung,
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewelled shone the saddle-leather;
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burned like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot :

As often, through the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;
On burnished hooves his war-horse trode:
From underneath his helmet flowed
His coal-black curls as on he rode,

As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror:
"Tirra lirra," by the river,

Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom;
She made three paces through the room;
She saw the water-lily bloom;

She saw the helmet and the plume;
She looked down to Camelot;
Out flew the web, and floated wide;
. The mirror cracked from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me!" cried
The lady of Shalott.

PART IV.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning-
The broad stream in the banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining

Over towered Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat,

Beneath a willow left afloat;

And round about the prow she wrote,
The lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse—
Like some bold seer in a trance,
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,
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-
A corse 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 royal 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, LORD TENNYSON.

RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.

An Ancient Mari

ner meeteth three gallants

bidden to a wed

ding feast, and detaineth one.

The Wedding-
Guest is spell

PART I.

IT is an Ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three,

"By thy long gray beard and glittering

eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened

wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set,—

Mayst hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand:
"There was a ship," quoth he,

"Hold off! unhand me, graybeard
loon!".

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye,bound by the eye The Wedding-Guest stood still;

of the old sea

faring man, and constrained to hear his tale.

He listens like a three years' child;

The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone,

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner: