Page:Poems (IA poemstennalfr00tennrich).pdf/21

 Willows whiten, aspens shiver, The sunbeam-showers break and quiver In the stream that runneth ever By the island in the river, Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.

Underneath the bearded barley, The reaper, reaping late and early, Hears her ever chanting cheerly, Like an angel, singing clearly, O'er the stream of Camelot. Piling the sheaves in furrows airy, Beneath the moon, the reaper weary Listening whispers, tis the fairy Lady of Shalott."