Luyện nghe bài hát The Lady of Shalott

On either of the river lie
Long of barley and of rye,
That clothe the world and meet the
And thro' the the road run by

To many-towered

And up and the people go,
where the lilies blow
Round an island below,
The of Shalott.

Willows whiten, quiver,
Little dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave runs for ever
By the in the river

Flowing to Camelot.

grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a of flowers,
And the isle imbowers
The of Shalott.

Only reapers, early,
In the bearded barley
Hear a that echoes cheerly
From the river clearly

Down to tower'd

And by the moon the weary,
sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, "'tis the fairy
The of Shalott."

she weaves by night and day
A web with colours gay,
She has a whisper say,
A is on her if she stay

To down to Camelot.

She knows not what the may be,
And so she steadily,
And little other hath she,
The of Shalott.

And moving through a clear
That hangs her all the year,
Shadows of the appear.
she sees the highway near

Winding to Camelot;

And sometimes thro' the blue
The Knights riding two and two.
She no loyal Knight and true,
The Of Shalott.

But in her web she delights
To weave the mirror's sights,
For thro' the silent nights
A funeral, plumes and lights

And music, went to

Or when the was overhead,
Came two lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows,"
The Of Shalott.

A from her bower-eaves,
He between the barley sheaves,
The sun dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the greaves

Of Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross for ever kneel'd
To a in his shield,
That sparkled on the field,
remote Shalott.

His broad clear in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse
From his helmet flow'd
His curls as on he rode,

As he rode to Camelot.

From the bank and from the
he flashed the crystal mirror,
"Tirra Lirra," by the
Sir Lancelot.

She the web, she left the loom,
She three paces taro' the room,
She saw the bloom,
She saw the and the plume,

She looked to Camelot.

Out flew the web and wide;
The mirror from side to side;
"The curse is upon me," cried
The of Shalott.

In the east-wind straining,
The yellow woods were waning,
The broad in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky

Over towered

she came and found a boat
Beneath a left afloat,
And about the prow she wrote
The Lady of

And down the river's dim
Like bold seer in a trance,
all his own mischance -
With a countenance

Did she to Camelot.

And at the of the day
She loosed the chain and down she
The broad bore her far away,
The of Shalott.

a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, lowly,
her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes darkened wholly,

to towered Camelot.

For ere she upon the tide
The house by the water-side,
in her song she died,
The of Shalott.

Under and balcony,
By and gallery,
A gleaming she floated by,
Dead-pale between the high,

Silent Camelot.

Out the wharfs they came,
and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And round the prow they her name,
The of Shalott.

Who is this? And is here?
And in the lighted near
Died the of royal cheer;
And they themselves for fear,

All the at Camelot;

But mused a little space
He said, "She has a face;
God in his mercy her grace,
The of Shalott."