Art work by J. W.
Waterhouse
'The Lady of Shalott'
By: Alfred Lord Tennyson
Part 1
On either side the river
lie
Long fields of Barley and
of Rye,
That clothe the wold and
meet the sky;
And thro' the field the
road runs by
To many- tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the
people go,
Grazing where the Lilies
blow
Round an island there
below,
The island of Shalott.
~
Willows whiten, aspens
quiver,
Little breezes dusk and
shiver
Thro' 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
embowers
The Lady of Shalott.
~
By the margin, willow
veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges
trail'd
By slow horses; and
unhail'd
The shallop flitteth
silken-sail'd
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 tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the
reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands
airy,
Listening, whispers
"Tis the Fairy
The Lady of Shalott."
Part II
There she weaves by night
and day
A magic web with colours
gay.
She has heard a whisper
say,
A curse is on her is 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 thro' 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 Shalott.
~
Sometimes a troop of
damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling
pad,
Sometimes a curly shepher-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in
crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd
Camelot.
And sometimes thro' the
mirror blue
The knights come riding
two by 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 thro' the
silent nights
A funeral, with plumbs
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 Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her
bower-eaves,
He rode between the
barley- sheaves,
The sun came dazzling
thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the
brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red cross knight
forever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the
yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
~
The gemmy bridle
glitter'd free,
Like some branch of stars
we see
Hung in the golden
Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang
merrily
As he rode down to
Camelot.
And from his blazon'd
baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle
hung,
And as he rode his armor
rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
~
All in the blue unclouded
weather,
Thick-jewell'd shone the
saddle-leather;
The helmet and the helmet
feather
Burn'd like one burning
flame together,
As he rode down to
Camelot:
As often thro' the purple
night,
Below the starry clusters
bright,
Some bearded meteor,
trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
~
His broad clear brow in
sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his
war-horse trode;
From underneath his
helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as
on he rode,
As he rode down to
Camelot.
From the bank and from
the river
He flash'd into the
crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra",
by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
~
She left the web, she
left the loom,
She made three paces
thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily
bloom,
She saw the helmet and
the plume,
She look'd down to
Camelot.
Out flew the web and
floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from
side to side;
"The curse is come
upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
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 tower'd 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 se'er 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 showy
white
That loosely flew to left
and right--
The leaves upon her
falling light--
Thro' 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,
Til her blood was frozen
slowly,
And her eyes were
darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd
Camelot.
For ere she reach'd 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 shaped 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".
Art work by J. W.
Waterhouse
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