Green Glass Beads Read online

  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 colours 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,

  Pass 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 shield,

  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 armour rung,

  Beside remote Shalott.

  All in the blue unclouded weather

  Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,

  The helmet and the helmet-feather

  Burn’d like one burning flame together,

  As he rode down to Camelot.

  As often thro’ the purple night,

  Below the starry clusters 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 flash’d 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 look’d down to Camelot.

  Out flew the web and floated wide;

  The mirror crack’d 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 were 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 glassy 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,

  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 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 cross’d themselves for fear,

  All the knights at Camelot:

  But Lancelot mused a little space;

  He said, ‘She has a lovely face;

  God in his mercy lend her grace,

  The Lady of Shalott.’

  Alfred, Lord Tennyson

  FRUIT AND FLOWERS

  This Is Just to Say

  This is just to say

  I have eaten

  the plums

  that were in

  the icebox

  and which

  you were probably

  saving

  for breakfast

  Forgive me

  they were delicious

  so sweet

  and so cold

  William Carlos Williams

  from The Old Wives’ Tale

  Song

  When as the rye reach to the chin,

  And chopcherry, chopcherry ripe within,

  Strawberries swimming in the cream,

  And schoolboys playing in the stream;

  Then Oh, then Oh, then Oh, my true-love said,

  Till that time come again

  She could not live a maid.

  George Peele

  Given an Apple

  He brought her an apple. She would not eat

  And he was hurt until she said,

  ‘I’m keeping it as a charm. It may

  Grow small and wrinkled. I don’t care.

  I’ll always think of you today.

  Time is defeated for that hour

  When you gave me an apple for

  A love token, and more.’

  Elizabeth Jennings

  Moonlit Apples

  At the top of the house the apples are laid in rows,

  And the skylight lets the moonlight in, and those

  Apples are deep-sea apples of green. There goes

  A cloud on the moon in the autumn night.

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