'But Lancelot mused a little space, He said, "She hath a lovely face; God in His mercy lend her grace"' --The Lady of Shallot, Tennyson
The Planter's Daughter
When night stirred at sea, An the fire brought a crowd in They say that her beauty Was music in mouth And few in the candlelight Thought her too proud, For the house of the planter Is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her Drank deep and were silent, The women were speaking Wherever she went -- As a bell that is rung Or a wonder told shyly And O she was the Sunday In every week.
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He said, "She hath a lovely face;
God in His mercy lend her grace"'
--The Lady of Shallot, Tennyson
The Planter's Daughter
When night stirred at sea,
An the fire brought a crowd in
They say that her beauty
Was music in mouth
And few in the candlelight
Thought her too proud,
For the house of the planter
Is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her
Drank deep and were silent,
The women were speaking
Wherever she went --
As a bell that is rung
Or a wonder told shyly
And O she was the Sunday
In every week.
By Austin Clarke
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