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The lady of shalott


            
            
             Once upon a time there was a mystery lady who lived in a castle an island, in a river near a town called Camelot. She has never been seen before, the only time anyone knows she is there is when the reapers who are reaping the barley and rye from the fields near by hear her singing in the tower.
             Round the outside of the castle there are snow-white lilies that blow in the breeze quite gracefully. The willow tree appears to form a whitish tinge as the breeze blows. The poplar trees also appear to quiver in the breeze. The breeze also shivers the surface of the water in the river to almost make the water seem darker. The castle itself had four grey walls, and four grey towers. The building looked very attractive.
             In this castle this lady weaves night and day. The tapestry she weaves is full of different colours. She had a curse cast upon her, which meant she can't look out the solitary window, down to Camelot, that she has in her room. If she does then God knows what will happen to her! In order to prevent this from happening she will keep on weaving steadily and in all honesty she has no other care in the world at that point.
             She has a mirror in her room, which hangs on the wall and shows the reflection of the outside world, which she weaves. Also in her room she has a wooden stool she sits on to do her weaving and a picture of herself near the window. There is nothing else in the room except a half-broken bookcase with any books on it, another reason why she knows so little about the real world. She can see the whirls of currents in the river; the grumpy, country people and the market girls in their red cloaks pass on ward from Shalott. She sees the reflection of an Abbot on an ambling horse and sometimes a curly haired shepherd or a long haired lad training to be a knight. She saw a few knights pass by her window and wondered what they were doing.
             She was still content to weave the magic sights of the mirror through those silent nights.


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