Leaves scattered as hooves clattered
Across the river his image was shattered
On brazen armour mud splattered
For him honour was al that mattered
The kind and strong Sir Lancelot
He listened no to tittle tattle
Hi did not herd sheep or cattle
His joy was in the latest battle
And returning to Camelot
Stale sweat, blood that was caked
Stuck in armour on a body half baked
Through the fields his horse snaked
To the core his feelings shaked
The loving, brave Sir Lancelot
By the river he knows so well
His heart begins to swell
Now is heaven, the battle hell
He can see beloved Camelot
Across the river he sees the isle
That has been there all the while
And seeing it brings on a smile
He knows hi home is but a mile
The orphaned, white knight, Sir Camelot
An on the island in that place
There lives…a fairy…none shall see her face
But her songs they say are full of grace
And the call her the Lady of Shallot
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