Practice Book, Leland Powers School Part 12

ELAINE.

Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, High in her chamber up a tower to the east Guarded the sacred s.h.i.+eld of Lancelot; Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray Might strike it, and awaken her with the gleam; Then fearing rust or soilure, fas.h.i.+on'd for it A case of silk, and braided thereupon All the devices blazon'd on the s.h.i.+eld In their own tinct, and added, of her wit, A border fantasy of branch and flower, And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.

Nor rested thus content, but day by day Leaving her household and good father, climb'd That eastern tower, and entering barr'd the door, Stript off the case, and read the naked s.h.i.+eld, Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his arms, Now made a pretty history to herself Of every dint a sword had beaten in it, And every scratch a lance had made upon it, Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh; That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle; That at Cearleon; this at Camelot; And ah, G.o.d's mercy what a stroke was there!

And here a thrust that might have kill'd, but G.o.d Broke the Strong lance and roll'd his enemy down, And saved him; so she lived in fantasy.

ALFRED, 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 To many-tower'd Camelot And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The Island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes, dusk and s.h.i.+ver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a s.p.a.ce of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow-veil'd, Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand?

Or at the cas.e.m.e.nt seen her stand?

Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly, From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott."

PART II.

There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colors gay.

She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot; There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market-girls, Pa.s.s onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue 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, 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: "I am half sick of shadows" said The Lady of Shalott.

PART III.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his s.h.i.+eld, That sparkled on the yellow field, 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; And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armor rung, Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd 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 cl.u.s.ters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd 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 thro' 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 are waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd 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 gla.s.sy 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-- Thro' 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, Til' her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd 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 s.p.a.ce; He said "She has a lovely face; G.o.d in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

IF WE HAD THE TIME.

If I had the time to find a place And sit me down full face to face With my better self, that cannot show In my daily life that rushes so: It might be then I would see my soul Was stumbling still towards the s.h.i.+ning goal, I might be nerved by the thought sublime,-- If I had the time!

If I had the time to let my heart Speak out and take in my life a part, To look about and to stretch a hand To a comrade quartered in no-luck land; Ah, G.o.d! If I might but just sit still And hear the note of the whip-poor-will, I think that my wish with G.o.d's would rhyme-- If I had the time!

If I had the time to learn from you How much for comfort my word could do; And I told you then of my sudden will To kiss your feet when I did you ill; If the tears aback of the coldness feigned Could flow, and the wrong be quite explained,-- Brothers, the souls of us all would chime, If we had the time!

RICHARD BURTON.