Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?
Loreena McKennitt’s version of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Lady of Shalott” is my favourite so far. The story of Lady of Shalott has always been one of my favourite Arthurian myths, and I think Loreena McKennitt’s voice and style of music goes perfectly with the general feel of the story.
On either side of the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the Wold and meet the sky; And thro’ the field the road run by To many-towered Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The Island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro’ the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle embowers The Lady of Shalott.
Only reapers, reaping early, In among the bearded barley Hear a song that echoes cheerly Down to Tower’d Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers “Tis the Fairy The Lady of Shalott.”
There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot; And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue The Knights come riding two and two. She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror’s magic sights, For often thro’ the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot; Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed. “I am half sick of shadows,” said The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote 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.
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro’ 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.
And down the river’s dim expanse Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance– With a glassy countenance did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carold, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turn’d to tower’d Camelot. For ere she reach’d upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burger, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, “She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott….
When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see Though you came to me in the night When the dawn seemed forever lost You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me
Then the mountain rose before me By the deep well of desire From the fountain of forgiveness Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me
Though we share this humble path, alone How fragile is the heart Oh give these clay feet wings to fly To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart Lift this mortal veil of fear Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears We’ll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean Cast your soul to the sea When the dark night seems endless Please remember me… Please remember me… Please remember me…
Couple of days ago someone called me “Queen of exceptions”. For some reason it reminded me of this song that I’ve always loved…
Taking on water, Sailing a restless sea From a memory, A fantasy. The wind carries Into white water, Far from the islands. Don’t you know you’re Never going to get to France. Mary, Queen of Chance, will they find you? Never going to get to France. Could a new romance ever bind you? Walking on foreign ground, Like a shadow, Roaming in far off Territory. Over your shoulder, Stories unfold, you’re Searching for sanctuary. You know you’re Never going to get to France… I see a picture By the lamp’s flicker. Isn’t it strange how Dreams fade and shimmer? Never going to get to France… I see a picture By the lamp’s flicker. Isn’t it strange how Dreams fade and shimmer? Never going to get to France… Never going to get to France. Never going to… Never going to get to France. Never going to… Never going to get to France. Never going to…
Hey, I'm Aasemoon, and this is my blog which has been around since 1998. Childhood toy project that ended up growing up with me.
You can reach me here:
aasemoon.blue
Zorbas is my kitten. You can see some pictures of him below. =)
