e
The Lady of Shalott.'

A knight, however, happens to ride past her window, coming

----'from Camelot;[P]
From the bank, and _from_ the _river_,
He flashed _into_ the crystal _mirror_--
"Tirra lirra, tirra _lirra_," (_lirrar_?)
Sang Sir Launcelot.'--p. 15.

The lady stepped to the window to look at the stranger, and forgot for
an instant her web:--the curse fell on her, and she died; why, how, and
wherefore, the following stanzas will clearly and pathetically
explain:--

'A long drawn carol, mournful, holy,
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her eyes were darkened _wholly_,
And her smooth face sharpened _slowly_,
Turned to towered Camelot.
For ere she reached upon the tide
The first house on the water side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott!
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the planked wharfage came;
Below _the stern_ they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.'--p. 19.

We pass by two--what shall we call them?--tales, or odes, or sketches,
entitled 'Mariana in the South' and 'Eleaenore,' of which we fear we
could make no intelligible extract, so curiously are they run together
into one dreamy tissue--to a little novel in rhyme, called 'The Miller's
Daughter.' Millers' daughters, poor things, have been so generally
betrayed by their sweethearts, that it is refreshing to find that Mr.
Tennyson has united himself to _his_ miller's daughter in lawful
wedlock, and the poem is a history of his courtship and wedding. He
begins with a sketch of his own birth, parentage, and personal
appearance--

'My father's mansion, mounted high,
Looked down upon the village-spire;
I was a long and listless boy,
And son and heir unto the Squire.'

But the son and heir of Squire Tennyson often descended from the
'mansion mounted high;' and

'I met in all the close green ways,
While walking with my line and rod,'

A metonymy for 'rod and line'--

'The wealthy miller's mealy face,
Like the _moon in an ivytod_.

'He looked so jolly and so good--
While fishing in the mill-dam water,
I laughed to see him as he stood,
And dreamt not of the miller's daughter.'--p. 33.

He, however, soon saw, and, need we add, loved the miller's daughter,
whose countenance, we presume, bore no great resemblance either to the
'me