This madness has come on us for our sins.
Alfred TennysonShe left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room
Mots clés lady-of-shallot
There is sweet music here that softer falls
Than petals from blown roses on the grass,
Or night-dews on still waters between walls
Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass;
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes;
Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.
Here are cool mosses deep,
And thro' the moss the ivies creep,
And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.
Mots clés lord-alfred-tennyson sweet-music
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
Mots clés curse camelot mirror lady
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Mots clés the-charge-of-the-light-brigade
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Mots clés poetry-quotes
So now I have sworn to bury
All this dead body of hate
I feel so free and so clear
By the loss of that dead weight
Mots clés clockwork-prince
And ah for a man to arise in me,
That the man I am may cease to be!
No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd,
But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word
She shook the world.
Mots clés poetry
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
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