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Under tower and balcony,
Silent into Camelot.
The Lady of Shalott.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Over tower'd Camelot;
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse Like some bold seër in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance With a glassy countenance
ENONE (First printed 1833; materially altered 1842.)
THERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier
the glen, ,
Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to O mother Ida, many-fountain’d Ida, pine,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand I waited underneath the dawning hills; The lawns and meadow-ledges midway | Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark, down
And dewy dark aloft the mountain pine. Hang rich in flowers, and far below them Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris, roars
Leading a jet-black goat white-horn'd, The long brook falling thro' the cloven white-hooved, ravine
Came up from reedy Simois all alone. In cataract after cataract to the sea.. Behind the valley topmost Gargarus 10 O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Stands up and takes the morning; but in Far-off the torrent call'd me from the cleft; front
Far up the solitary morning smote The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal The streaks of virgin snow. With downTroas and Ilion's column'd citadel,
dropt eyes The crown of Troas.
I sat alone; white-breasted like a star Hither came at noon Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard Mournful Enone, wandering, forlorn
skin Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills. Droop'd from his shoulder, but bis sunny Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her
Cluster'd about his temples like a God's; Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest. And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow She, leaning on a fragment twined with
When the wind blows the foam, and all my Sang to the stillness, till the mountain
20 | Went forth to embrace him coming ere he Sloped downward to her seat from the
came. upper cliff.
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, He smiled, and opening out his milk-white Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
palm For now the noonday quiet holds the hill; Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold, The grasshopper is silent in the grass; That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, And listen'd, the full-flowing river of Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead.
Came down upon my heart: The purple flower droops, the golden bee
““My own Enone, Is lily-cradled; I alone a wake.
Beautiful-browed Enone, my own soul, My eyes are full of tears, my heart of Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind in
graven My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, For the most fair,' would seem to award And I am all aweary of my life.
As lovelier than whatever Oread haunt "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, The knolls of Ida, loveliest in all grace Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
Of movement, and the charm of married Hear me, 0 earth, hear me, O bills, O) caves
brows." That house the cold crown'd srake! O mountain brooks
• Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. I am the daughter of a River-God,
He prest the blossom of his lips to mine, Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all And added, “This was cast upon the My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls
board, Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, 401 When all the full-faced presence of the Gods A cloud that gather'd shape; for it may be Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon That, while I speak of it, a little while | Rose feud, with question unto whom 't were My heart may wander from its deeper woe. I
• love, .
But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve, “Which in all action is the end of all; 120 Delivering, that to me, by common voice Power fitted to the season; wisdom-bred Elected umpire, Here comes to-day, : And tbroned of wisdom — from all neighPallas and Aphrodite, claiming each
bor crowns This meed of fairest. Thou, within the cave Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine, Fail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard
from me, Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.” From me, heaven's queen, Paris, to thee
king-born, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born, It was the deep midnoon; one silvery Should come most welcome, seeing men, in cloud
power Had lost his way between the piny sides Only, are likest Gods, who have attain'd Of this long glen. Then to the bower they | Rest in a happy place and quiet seats came,
Above the thunder, with undying bliss 130 Naked they came to that smooth-swarded In knowledge of their own supremacy."
bower, And at their feet the crocus brake like fire, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,
She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit Lotos and lilies; and a wind arose,
Out at arm's-length, so much the thought And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,
of power This way and that, in many a wild festoon Flatter'd his spirit; but Pallas where she Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs
stood With bunch and berry and flower thro' and Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs thro'.
O'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear
Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold, () mother Ida, barken ere I die.
The while, above, her full and earnest eye On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit, Over her snow-cold breast and angry And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and
Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply: Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew. Then first I heard the voice of her to | ““ Self-reverence, self-knowledge, selfwhoin
control, Coming thro' heaven, like a light that These three alone lead life to sovereign grows
power. Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods Yet not for power (power of herself Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made Would come uncali'd for) but to live by Proffer of royal power, ample rule
law, Unquestion'd, overflowing revenue 110 Acting the law we live by without fear; Wherewith to embellish state, “ from many | And, because right is right, to follow right a vale
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence." And river-sunder'd champaign clothed with corn,
• Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Or labor'd mine undrainable of ore.
Again she said: “I woo thee not with gifts. Honor,” she said, “and homage, tax and Sequel of guerdon could not alter me 151
To fairer. Judge thou me by what I am, From many an iuland town and haven So shalt thou find me fairest. large,
Yet, indeed, Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing cita If gazing on divinity disrobed del
Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair, In glassy bays among her tallest towers." | Unbias'd by self-profit, 0, rest thee sure
That I shall love thee well and cleave to O mother Ida, harken ere I die.
thee, Still she spake on and still she spake of So that my vigor, wedded to thy blood, power,
| Sball strike within thy pulses, like a God's,
To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks, Close, close to thine in that quick-falling Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow
200 Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown Of fruitful kisses, thick as autumn rains will,
Flash in the pools of whirling Simois!
O mother, hear me yet before I die.
Here she ceas'd, I They came, they cut away my tallest pines, And Paris ponder'd, and I cried, “O Paris, My tall dark pines, that plumed the craggy Give it to Pallas !” but he heard me not,
ledge Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me! High over the blue gorge, and all between
The snowy peak and snow-white cataract O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Foster'd the callow eaglet - from benenth Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark Idalian Aphrodite beautiful,
morn Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian | The panther's roar came muffled, while I sat wells,
Low in the valley. Never, never more With rosy slender fingers backward drew Shall lone Enone see the morning mist From her warin brows and bosom her deep Sweep thro' them; never see them overlaid hair
With narrow moonlit slips of silver cloud, Ambrosial, golden round her lucid throat Between the loud stream and the trembling And shoulder; from the violets her light
stars. foot Shone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded form! O mother, hear me yet before I die. Between the shadows of the vine-bunches I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds, Floated the glowing sunlights, as she Among the fragments tumbled from the moved.
Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. The Abominable, that uninvited came 220 She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes, 180 Into the fair Peleïan banquet-hall, The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh And cast the golden fruit upon the board, Half-whisper'd in his ear, “I promise thee And bred this change; that I might speak The fairest and most loving wife in
my mind, Greece.”
And tell her to her face how much I hate She spoke and laugh'd; I shut my sight for | Her presence, hated both of Gods and mon.
fear; But when I look’d, Paris had raised his arm, O mother, hear me yet before I die. And I beheld great Here's angry eyes, Hath he not sworn his love a thousand As she withdrew into the golden cloud,
times, And I was left alone within the bower; In this green valley, under this green hill, And from that time to this I am alone, Even on this hand, and sitting on this stone ? And I shall be alone until I die. 190 Seal'd it with kisses ? water'd it with
tears? Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. O happy tears, and how unlike to these! Fairest — why fairest wife ? am I not fair ? O happy heaven, how canst thou see my My love hath told me so a thonsand times.
face? Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday, O happy earth, how canst thou bear my When I past by, a wild and wanton pard,
weight ? Eyed like the evening star, with playful O death, death, death, thou ever-floating tail
cloud, Crouch'd fawning in the weed. Most loving There are enough unhappy on this earth, is she?
Pass by the happy souls, that love to live; Ab me, my mountain shepherd, that my I pray thee, pass before my light of life, arms
And shadow all my soul, that I may die. Were wound about thee, and my hot lips Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, prest
| Weigh heavy on my eyelids; let me die. 240
"O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me, more and
And some thro' wavering lights and shad
showery drops, Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the
The charmed sunset linger'd low adown
“O mother, hear me yet before I die. Was seen far inland, and the yellow down Hear me, ( earth. I will not die alone, Border'd with palm, and many a winding Lest their shrill happy laughter come to me
vale Walking the cold and starless road of death And meadow, set with slender galingale; Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love A land where all things always seem'd the With the Greek woman. I will rise and go
same! Down into Troy, and ere the stars come forth And round abont the keel with faces pale, Talk with the wild Cassandra, for she says Dark faces pale against that rosy flame, A fire dances before her, and a sound 260 The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters Rings ever in her ears of armed men.
came. What this may be I know not, but I know That, wheresoe'er I am by night and day, Branches they bore of that enchanted All earth and air seem only burning fire.”
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they
gave THE LOTOS-EATERS
To each, but whoso did receive of them 30
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave [First printed 1833 ; altered in 1842.]
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, COURAGE!' he said, and pointed toward His voice was thin, as voices from the the land,
grave; •This mounting wave will roll us shore- | And deep-asleep he seem'd, yet all awake, ward soon.'
And music in his ears his beating heart did In the afternoon they came unto a land
make. In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did They sat them down upon the yellow sand, swoon,
Between the sun and moon upon the shore; Breathing like one that hath a weary And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, dream.
Of child, and wife, and slave; but everFull-faced above the valley stood the
Most weary seem'd the sea, weary the And, like a downward smoke, the slender oar, stream
Weary the wandering fields of barren Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall
foam. did seem.
Then some one said, “We will return no
more;' A land of streams ! some, like a downward And all at once they sang, Our island smoke,
home Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer go;