Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the planked wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
"The Lady of Shalott".
To the planked wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
"The Lady of Shalott".
Tennyson
"Tirra lirra, tirra lirra.
"]
[Footnote 16: 1833. Water flower. ]
[Footnote 17: 1833.
Outside the isle a shallow boat
Beneath a willow lay afloat,
Below the carven stern she wrote,
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. ]
[Footnote 18: 1833.
A cloud-white crown of pearl she dight,
All raimented in snowy white
That loosely flew (her zone in sight,
Clasped with one blinding diamond bright),
Her wide eyes fixed on Camelot,
Though the squally eastwind keenly
Blew, with folded arms serenely
By the water stood the queenly
Lady of Shalott.
With a steady, stony glance--
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Beholding all his own mischance,
Mute, with a glassy countenance--
She looked down to Camelot.
It was the closing of the day,
She loosed the chain, and down she lay,
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
As when to sailors while they roam,
By creeks and outfalls far from home,
Rising and dropping with the foam,
From dying swans wild warblings come,
Blown shoreward; so to Camelot
Still as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her chanting her death song,
The Lady of Shalott. ]
[Footnote 19: 1833.
A long drawn carol, mournful, holy,
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her eyes were darkened wholly,
And her smooth face sharpened slowly. ]
[Footnote 20: "A corse" (1853) is a variant for the "Dead-pale" of 1857. ]
[Footnote 21: 1833.
A pale, pale corpse she floated by,
Dead cold, between the houses high,
Dead into towered Camelot.
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the planked wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
"The Lady of Shalott". ]
[Footnote 22: 1833. Spells it "Launcelot" all through. ]
[Footnote 23: 1833.
They crossed themselves, their stars they blest,
Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire and guest,
There lay a parchment on her breast,
That puzzled more than all the rest,
The well-fed wits at Camelot.
"'The web was woven curiously,
The charm is broken utterly,
Draw near and fear not--this is I,
The Lady of Shalott. '"]
MARIANA IN THE SOUTH
First printed in 1833.
This poem had been written as early as 1831 (see Arthur Hallam's letter,
'Life', i. , 284-5, Appendix), and Lord Tennyson tells us that it
"came to my father as he was travelling between Narbonne and Perpignan";
how vividly the characteristic features of Southern France are depicted
must be obvious to every one who is familiar with them. It is
interesting to compare it with the companion poem; the central position
is the same in both, desolate loneliness, and the mood is the same, but
the setting is far more picturesque and is therefore more dwelt upon.
The poem was very greatly altered when re-published in 1842, that text
being practically the final one, there being no important variants
afterwards.
In the edition of 1833 the poem opened with the following stanza, which
was afterwards excised and the stanza of the present text substituted.
Behind the barren hill upsprung
With pointed rocks against the light,
The crag sharpshadowed overhung
Each glaring creek and inlet bright.
Far, far, one light blue ridge was seen,
Looming like baseless fairyland;
Eastward a slip of burning sand,
Dark-rimmed with sea, and bare of green,
Down in the dry salt-marshes stood
That house dark latticed. Not a breath
Swayed the sick vineyard underneath,
Or moved the dusty southernwood.
"Madonna," with melodious moan
Sang Mariana, night and morn,
"Madonna!
[Footnote 16: 1833. Water flower. ]
[Footnote 17: 1833.
Outside the isle a shallow boat
Beneath a willow lay afloat,
Below the carven stern she wrote,
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. ]
[Footnote 18: 1833.
A cloud-white crown of pearl she dight,
All raimented in snowy white
That loosely flew (her zone in sight,
Clasped with one blinding diamond bright),
Her wide eyes fixed on Camelot,
Though the squally eastwind keenly
Blew, with folded arms serenely
By the water stood the queenly
Lady of Shalott.
With a steady, stony glance--
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Beholding all his own mischance,
Mute, with a glassy countenance--
She looked down to Camelot.
It was the closing of the day,
She loosed the chain, and down she lay,
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
As when to sailors while they roam,
By creeks and outfalls far from home,
Rising and dropping with the foam,
From dying swans wild warblings come,
Blown shoreward; so to Camelot
Still as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her chanting her death song,
The Lady of Shalott. ]
[Footnote 19: 1833.
A long drawn carol, mournful, holy,
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her eyes were darkened wholly,
And her smooth face sharpened slowly. ]
[Footnote 20: "A corse" (1853) is a variant for the "Dead-pale" of 1857. ]
[Footnote 21: 1833.
A pale, pale corpse she floated by,
Dead cold, between the houses high,
Dead into towered Camelot.
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the planked wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
"The Lady of Shalott". ]
[Footnote 22: 1833. Spells it "Launcelot" all through. ]
[Footnote 23: 1833.
They crossed themselves, their stars they blest,
Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire and guest,
There lay a parchment on her breast,
That puzzled more than all the rest,
The well-fed wits at Camelot.
"'The web was woven curiously,
The charm is broken utterly,
Draw near and fear not--this is I,
The Lady of Shalott. '"]
MARIANA IN THE SOUTH
First printed in 1833.
This poem had been written as early as 1831 (see Arthur Hallam's letter,
'Life', i. , 284-5, Appendix), and Lord Tennyson tells us that it
"came to my father as he was travelling between Narbonne and Perpignan";
how vividly the characteristic features of Southern France are depicted
must be obvious to every one who is familiar with them. It is
interesting to compare it with the companion poem; the central position
is the same in both, desolate loneliness, and the mood is the same, but
the setting is far more picturesque and is therefore more dwelt upon.
The poem was very greatly altered when re-published in 1842, that text
being practically the final one, there being no important variants
afterwards.
In the edition of 1833 the poem opened with the following stanza, which
was afterwards excised and the stanza of the present text substituted.
Behind the barren hill upsprung
With pointed rocks against the light,
The crag sharpshadowed overhung
Each glaring creek and inlet bright.
Far, far, one light blue ridge was seen,
Looming like baseless fairyland;
Eastward a slip of burning sand,
Dark-rimmed with sea, and bare of green,
Down in the dry salt-marshes stood
That house dark latticed. Not a breath
Swayed the sick vineyard underneath,
Or moved the dusty southernwood.
"Madonna," with melodious moan
Sang Mariana, night and morn,
"Madonna!
