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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 ...
The Lady of Shalott, dressed in white, lay at the bottom of the boat with her garments moving in the wind and leaves lightly falling on her as the boat traveled through the river at night towards Camelot. Everything that surrounded the boat, including the willows and fields, were witnesses of the last song that the lady of Shalott sang as she ...
Poems in Translation. English, French, German, Deutsch. The Lady of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson (1842) On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And through the field the road run 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.
15 de jun. de 2012 · [The text has been checked against the The Poems of Tennyson, ed. Christopher Ricks. Second edition incorporating the Trinity College Manuscripts. Burnt Mill, Harlow, Essex: Longman, 1987. I, ... 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 ...
6 de dic. de 2021 · 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 darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under ...
There are three instances of song in “The Lady of Shalott,” the first being the cheerful song the reapers hear the Lady sing, the second being Lancelot’s “tirra lirra,” and the third being the Lady’s “mournful carol.” A “carol” is a type of religious folksong, often a hymn, hence its association with holiness.
And through the field the road runs by. To many-towered 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 shiver. Through the wave that runs for ever.
