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Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Lady of 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 flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

3 comments:

Jonathan said...

Anne Shirley, what in heck are you doing?

Anonymous said...

Anne Shirley?!
then where the heck is Gilbert Blithe

Kait said...

psht! Who needs Gilbert Blithe?