| 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 run by | |
| To many-tower'd Camelot; | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| 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, | 15 |
| Overlook a space of flowers, | |
| And the silent isle imbowers | |
| The Lady of Shalott. | |
| |
| By the margin, willow veil'd, | |
| Slide the heavy barges trail'd | 20 |
| 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? | 25 |
| 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 | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| The Lady of Shalott." | |
| |
| There she weaves by night and day | |
| A magic web with colours gay. | |
| She has heard a whisper say, | |
| A curse is on her if she stay | 40 |
| 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. | 45 |
| |
| 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; | 50 |
| 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, | 55 |
| An abbot on an ambling pad, | |
| Sometimes a curly shepherd lad, | |
| Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad | |
| Goes by to tower'd Camelot; | |
| And sometimes through the mirror blue | 60 |
| 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, | 65 |
| 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. | 70 |
| "I am half sick of shadows," said | |
| The Lady of Shalott. | |
| |
| A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, | |
| He rode between the barley sheaves, | |
| The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, | 75 |
| And flamed upon the brazen greaves | |
| Of bold Sir Lancelot. | |
| A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd | |
| To a lady in his shield, | |
| That sparkled on the yellow field, | 80 |
| Beside remote Shalott. | |
| |
| The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, | |
| Like to some branch of stars we see | |
| Hung in the golden Galaxy. | |
| The bridle bells rang merrily | 85 |
| 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. | 90 |
| |
| 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. | 95 |
| As often thro' the purple night, | |
| Below the starry clusters bright, | |
| Some bearded meteor, burning bright, | |
| Moves over still Shalott. | |
| |
| His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; | 100 |
| 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 | 105 |
| 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, | 110 |
| 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; | 115 |
| "The curse is come upon me," cried | |
| The Lady of Shalott. | |
| |
| In the stormy east-wind straining, | |
| The pale yellow woods were waning, | |
| The broad stream in his banks complaining. | 120 |
| Heavily the low sky raining | |
| Over tower'd Camelot; | |
| Down she came and found a boat | |
| Beneath a willow left afloat, | |
| And around about the prow she wrote | 125 |
| 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 | 130 |
| 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. | 135 |
| |
| Lying, robed in snowy 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: | 140 |
| 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, | 145 |
| Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, | |
| Till her blood was frozen slowly, | |
| And her eyes were darkened wholly, | |
| Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. | |
| For ere she reach'd upon the tide | 150 |
| 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, | 155 |
| 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, | 160 |
| And around 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; | 165 |
| 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, | 170 |
| The Lady of Shalott." | |