Under the Rushes Blue
The Young Ophelia

Down under the rushes
the streams of rushes
to carry you,
idyll of my soul,
so prism and true,
still and pale,
in green like sky.

And where the road was
wreathed with dust,
the peasants traveled
from far off, their
horns ablaze,
their call to arms.

I but a lad,
had no new clothes,
but in my hand
I held the world.

--Emily Isaacson

There was one thing forbidden: according to Tennyson's poem of the legend, the Lady of Shalott was forbidden to use realism: to look directly at reality or the outside world; instead she was cursed to view the world in a mirror, and weave what she saw into tapestry.
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