Luyện nghe bài hát The Lady of Shalott

On either of the river lie
Long fields of and of rye,
That clothe the world and the sky;
And the field the road run by

To Camelot;

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

whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes and shiver
the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the

Flowing to Camelot.

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

Only reapers, early,
In among the barley
a song that echoes cheerly
From the winding clearly

Down to tower'd

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

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

To look to Camelot.

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

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

Winding down to

And sometimes the mirror blue
The come riding two and two.
She no loyal Knight and true,
The Of Shalott.

But in her web she delights
To the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the nights
A funeral, with plumes and

And music, to Camelot;

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

A from her bower-eaves,
He rode the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen

Of Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for kneel'd
To a in his shield,
That on the yellow field,
Beside Shalott.

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

As he rode to Camelot.

the bank and from the river
he flashed into the 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 down to Camelot.

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

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

Over Camelot;

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

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

Did she to Camelot.

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

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

to towered Camelot.

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

tower and balcony,
By and gallery,
A gleaming she floated by,
between the houses high,

Silent Camelot.

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

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

All the Knights at

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