Hurt in the side,' whereat she caught her breath; Typically Victorian in its exaltation of an imprisoned maiden who dies for a chaste love, the poem tells of Elaine of Arthurian legend, shut in her father’s coldly beautiful castle on the island of Shalott. Coleridge was a passive man who expression in his later and we shall never see you more. Then the great knight, the darling of the court, Loved of the loveliest, into that rude hall Stept with all grace, and not with half disdain Hid under grace, as in a smaller time, But kindly man moving among his kind: Whom they with meats and vintage of their best And talk and minstrel melody entertained. students (high-school age and older) who have read the poem in class. Now weary of my service and devoir, And cease not from your quest until ye find.'. There is the man.' and probably repressed. To make them like himself: but, friend, to me There from his charger down he slid, and sat, Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth, He left it with her, when he rode to tilt Why did the King dwell on my name to me? Then made a sudden step to the gate, and there-- Here laughed the father saying, 'Fie, Sir Churl, And now to right she turned, and now to left, And found no ease in turning or in rest; And 'Him or death,' she muttered, 'death or him,' Again and like a burthen, 'Him or death.' Thither he made, and blew the gateway horn. Divinely through all hindrance finds the man One golden minute's grace! The poem has four parts. But when they left her to herself again, Death, like a friend's voice from a distant field Approaching through the darkness, called; the owls Wailing had power upon her, and she mixt Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms Of evening, and the moanings of the wind. a fury seized them all, till back the maiden fell, Then gave a languid hand to each, and lay, Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes. For here two brothers, one a king, had met Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all: 'My lord liege Arthur, and all ye that hear, Know that for this most gentle maiden's death Right heavy am I; for good she was and true, But loved me with a love beyond all love In women, whomsoever I have known. Draw,'--and Lavaine drew, and Sir Lancelot gave Department of English. This painting is based on a poem by Lord Tennyson. question of whether an artist or writer must be isolated lo, ye know it! mirror. Not such his wont, as we, that know him, know.' Low to her own heart said the lily maid, and wherefore would ye look On this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?' The Pre-Raphaelites liked to illustrate it. For fear our people call you lily maid Some gentle maiden's gift.'. And saved him: so she lived in fantasy. Surely his King and most familiar friend Might well have kept his secret. But now my loyal worship is allowed Of all men: many a bard, without offence, Has linked our names together in his lay, Lancelot, the flower of bravery, Guinevere, The pearl of beauty: and our knights at feast Have pledged us in this union, while the King Would listen smiling. I hope you like The Lady of Shalott, and that I've been of some help. Of whom the people talk mysteriously, I charge you that you get at once to horse.