TENNSYON: THE LADY OF SHALLOT P a g e | 1

THE LADY OF SHALOTT by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

PART I

On either side the river lie By the margin, willow-veil'd

Long fields of barley and of rye, Slide the heavy barges trail'd

That clothe the wold and meet the sky; By slow horses; and unhail'd

And thro' the field the road runs by The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd

To many-tower'd Camelot; Skimming down to Camelot:

And up and down the people go, But who hath seen her wave her hand?

Gazing where the lilies blow Or at the casement seen her stand?

Round an island there below, Or is she known in all the land,

The island of Shalott. The Lady of Shalott?

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Only reapers, reaping early

Little breezes dusk and shiver In among the bearded barley,

Thro' the wave that runs for ever Hear a song that echoes cheerly

By the island in the river From the river winding clearly,

Flowing down to Camelot. Down to tower'd Camelot:

Four gray walls, and four gray towers, And by the moon the reaper weary,

Overlook a space of flowers, Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

And the silent isle imbowers Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy

The Lady of Shalott. Lady of Shalott".

PART II

There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. TENNSYON: THE LADY OF SHALLOT P a g e | 2

She has heard a whisper say, An abbot on an ambling pad,

A curse is on her if she stay Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,

To look down to Camelot. Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,

She knows not what the 'curse' may be, Goes by to tower'd Camelot;

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she, And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

The Lady of Shalott. The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

And moving thro' a mirror clear The Lady of Shalott.

That hangs before her all the year,

Shadows of the world appear. But in her web she still delights

There she sees the highway near To weave the mirror's magic sights,

Winding down to Camelot: For often thro' the silent nights

There the river eddy whirls, A funeral, with plumes and lights,

And there the surly village-churls, And music, went to Camelot:

And the red cloaks of market girls, Or when the moon was overhead,

Pass onward from Shalott. Came two young lovers lately wed;

"I am half-sick of shadows," said

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, The Lady of Shalott.

PART III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, Of bold Sir Lancelot.

He rode between the barley sheaves, A redcross knight for ever kneel'd

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, To a lady in his shield,

And flamed upon the brazen greaves That sparkled on the yellow field, TENNSYON: THE LADY OF SHALLOT P a g e | 3

Beside remote Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;

Like to some branch of stars we see From underneath his helmet flow'd

Hung in the golden Galaxy. His coal-black curls as on he rode,

The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot.

As he rode down to Camelot: From the bank and from the river

And from his blazon'd baldric slung He flashed into the crystal mirror,

A mighty silver bugle hung, "Tirra lirra," by the river

And as he rode his armour rung, Sang Sir Lancelot.

Beside remote Shalott.

She left the web, she left the loom;

All in the blue unclouded weather She made three paces thro' the room,

Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, She saw the water-lily bloom,

The helmet and the helmet-feather She saw the helmet and the plume,

Burn'd like one burning flame together, She look'd down to Camelot.

As he rode down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide;

As often thro' the purple night, The mirror crack'd from side to side;

Below the starry clusters bright, "The curse is come upon me," cried

Some bearded meteor, trailing light, The Lady of Shalott.

Moves over still Shalott.

PART IV

In the stormy east-wind straining, Over tower'd Camelot;

The pale yellow woods were waning, Down she came and found a boat

The broad stream in his banks complaining, Beneath a willow left afloat,

Heavily the low sky raining And round about the prow she wrote TENNSYON: THE LADY OF SHALLOT P a g e | 4

'The Lady of Shalott.' For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

And down the river's dim expanse-- Singing in her song she died,

Like some bold seër in a trance, The Lady of Shalott.

Seeing all his own mischance--

With a glassy countenance Under tower and balcony,

Did she look to Camelot. By garden-wall and gallery,

And at the closing of the day A gleaming shape she floated by,

She loosed the chain, and down she lay; Dead-pale between the houses high,

The broad stream bore her far away, Silent into Camelot.

The Lady of Shalott. Out upon the wharfs they came,

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

Lying, robed in snowy white And round the prow they read her name,

That loosely flew to left and right-- 'The Lady of Shalott'

The leaves upon her falling light--

Thro' the noises of the night Who is this? and what is here?

She floated down to Camelot; And in the lighted palace near

And as the boat-head wound along Died the sound of royal cheer;

The willowy hills and fields among, And they cross'd themselves for fear,

They heard her singing her last song, All the knights at Camelot:

The Lady of Shalott. But Lancelot mused a little space;

He said, "She has a lovely face;

Heard a carol, mournful, holy, God in his mercy lend her grace,

Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, The Lady of Shalott".

Till her blood was frozen slowly,

And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;