THE LADY OF SHALOTT.
15
From the bank, and from the river,
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra, tirra lirra,"
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web: she left the loom:
She made three paces thro' the room:
She saw the waterflower 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.
