Luyện nghe bài hát The Lady of Shalott

On side of the river lie
fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the world and the sky;
And thro' the the road run by

To many-towered

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

Willows whiten, quiver,
breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for
By the island in the

down to Camelot.

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

reapers, reaping early,
In among the barley
Hear a song that echoes
From the river clearly

to tower'd Camelot;

And by the the reaper weary,
Piling in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'tis the
The of Shalott."

There she weaves by and day
A magic web colours gay,
She has heard a say,
A curse is on her if she

To look to Camelot.

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

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

Winding to Camelot;

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

But in her web she still
To weave the magic sights,
For often the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and

And music, went to

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

A bow-shot her bower-eaves,
He rode between the sheaves,
The sun dazzling thro' the leaves,
And upon the brazen greaves

Of Sir Lancelot.

A knight for ever kneel'd
To a in his shield,
That on the yellow field,
remote Shalott.

His broad clear brow in glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse
From underneath his helmet
His coal-black as on he rode,

As he rode to Camelot.

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

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

She looked to Camelot.

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

In the stormy straining,
The pale yellow woods waning,
The broad in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky

towered Camelot;

Down she and found a boat
a willow left afloat,
And round the prow she wrote
The Lady of

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

Did she to Camelot.

And at the of the day
She loosed the and down she lay;
The broad stream her far away,
The of Shalott.

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

to towered Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the
The first by the water-side,
in her song she died,
The of Shalott.

Under and balcony,
By and gallery,
A shape she floated by,
between the houses high,

Silent Camelot.

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

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

All the Knights at

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