Lady of Shallot
Part I
On either side the river lie Long fields of
barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and
meet the sky; And through the field the road
runs by To many-towered Camelot; And up
and down the people go, Gazing where the
lilies blow Round an island there below, The
island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens
quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever By the
island in the river Flowing down to
Camelot. Four grey walls, and four grey
towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And
the silent isle imbowers The Lady of
Shalott. By the margin, willow-veiled, Slide
the heavy barges trailed By slow horses; and
unhailed The shallop flitteth silken-sailed
Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath
seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement
seen her stand? Or is she known in all the
land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers,
reaping early In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the
river winding clearly, Down to towered
Camelot: And by the moon the reaper
weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Lady
of Shalott."
Part II
There she weaves by night and day She
has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if
she stay To look down to Camelot. She
knows not what the curse may be, And so
she weaveth steadily, And little other care
hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving
through a mirror clear That hangs before
her all the year, Shadows of the world
appear. There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot: There the river
eddy whirls, And there the surly village-
churls, And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalot Sometimes a
troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an
ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-
lad, Or long-haired page in crimson clad,
Goes by to towered Camelot; And
sometimes through the mirror blue The
knights come riding two and two: She hath
no loyal knight and true, The Lady of
Shalott. But in her web she still delights To
weave the mirror's magic sights, For often
through the silent nights A funeral, with
plumes and lights And music, went to
Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed; "I am
half sick of shadows," said The Lady of
Shallot
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He
rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun
came dazzling through the leaves, And
flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir
Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever
kneeled To a lady in his shield, That
sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote
Shalott. The gemmy bridle glittered free,
Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells
rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazoned baldric slung A
mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his
armour rung, All in the blue unclouded
weather Thick-jewelled shone the saddle-
leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burned like one burning flame together, As
he rode down to Camelot. As often through
the purple night, Below the starry clusters
bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear
brow in sunlight glowed; On burnished
hooves his war-horse trode; From
underneath his helmet flowed His coal-black
curls as on he rode, As he rode down to
Camelot. From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror, "Tirra
lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She
left the web, she left the loom, She made
three paces through the room, She saw
the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and
the plume, She looked down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide; The
mirror cracked from side to side; "The curse
is come upon me," cried The Lady of
Shallot
Part IV
In the stormy east-wind straining, The
pale yellow woods were waning, The broad
stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the
low sky raining Over towered Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat Beneath a
willow left afloat, And round about the prow
she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down
the river's dim expanse, Like some bold seer
in a trance Seeing all his own mischance,
With a glassy countenance Did she look to
Camelot. And at the closing of the day She
loosed the chain, and down she lay; The
broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of
Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That
loosely flew to left and right - The leaves
upon her falling light - Through the noises
of the night She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along The
willowy hills and fields among, They heard
her singing her last song, The Lady of
Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood
was frozen slowly, And her eyes were
darkened wholly, Turned to towered
Camelot. For ere she reached upon the tide
The first house by the water-side, Singing in
her song she died, The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall
and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent
into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they
came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name, The
Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near Died the
sound of royal cheer; And they crossed
themselves for fear, All the knights at
Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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