On either side of 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.1
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 gray walls, and four gray 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? 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
From the river winding clearly,
Down to towered Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
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 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 hands 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 curly 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 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 Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling through the leaves, 75
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,
Like to 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 blazoned baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
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 glow'd; 100
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 lira," 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 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 towered Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round 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
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 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,
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."
Victorian Website Overview Alfred Lord Tennyson Lady
of Shalott
.
Do you like "The Lady Of Shalott?
The imagery is profoundly sexual. The lady looks at the world through a mirror, which is the symbol of virginity. For poets and mythopoeists alike, the shattering of a mirror is the loss of viginity (hymen breaking), and this is what will happen to the Lady if she looks directly at the world (specifically Launcelot). As soon as she does so, "the mirror crack'd from side to side" -- in poetic terms, she has succumbed to a sexual relationship with him, and must bear the consequences.
There is even more subtle imagery in this poem, not normally visible to most (especially those writing essays for English classes). Look at these lines, ostensibly describing Sir Launcelot:
"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."
This is not the shield device of Launcelot! The shield device of Launcelot is a set of black and silver chevrons. Tennyson was steeped in Arthurian lore and imagery, and knew this (he also wrote The Idylls of the King). The symbol of a knight clothed in a tunic bearing a red cross on it, kneeling before a lady (the Virgin Mary), is the device of King Arthur, not Sir Launcelot. The hidden reference is to Tennyson's dearest friend, Arthur Henry Hallam, who died whilst a student at university, and whose death resulted in the greatest series of elegiac poems ever written, Tennyson's "In Memoriam".
A very strange poem, with more layers to it than are commonly supposed.
Reply:The singer Lorena mckennit did an amazing version of this poem as a song and it is so lovely it almost breaks the heart. made me look at the poem anew.
Reply:amazing poem i saw the painting first
very sad indeed.
the poem ends with the tragic triviality of Lancelot's response to her tremendous passion: all he has to say about her is that "she has a lovely face" . Having abandoned her artistry, the Lady of Shalott becomes herself an art object; no longer can she offer her creativity, but merely a "dead-pale" beauty
Reply:I love it.
I think that 'When the moon lay overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed, 'I am half sick of shadows' said the Lady of Shallot is one of the most beautiful lines ever.
But you try teaching the poem to girls and you get to 'The curse is come upon me' and they just laugh.
Reply:I remember this from my school days, one or two years ago! I can still recite the first bit and remember odd snippits of the rest of it. I've enjoyed reading it again - thanks!
Reply:ya i like it
we have to write an essay on it though...
on the theme "inequality"
and how she was locked up and didn't have any control of her
life... etc.
if u can help me, please do.
=]
Reply:I love this poem and often wonder how she came to be locked away in her tower and cursed. I am also enthralled by the various Victorian paintings by JW Waterhouse depicting various scenes from this poem.
Reply:I can recite it still (from learning it for an English Lit exam back in the 1950's!)
It inspired me to suggest to the son of a chair-bound lady, that he put glass wall tiles on a wall opposite the window so that she could have a view of the garden and street outside her house!
Reply:I first came across this poem when doing my O levels back in 1975 - loved it ever since. Fortunately it had such a profound effect on me I was able to recall a lot\ of the comments from my youth when my son studied it for his GCSE!
I also loved Masefields "Reynard the fox" despite the sad and cruel end, and was strangely moved by Brocks "Five ways to Kill a man" and "Song of the battery hen". These two poems broke my erstwhile belief that poetry should be beautiful and allowed me to explore the darker side of poetry which opened huge chasms of emotional feelings that had not previousl;y been unlocked.
Reply:I like it. We discussed it in my English class. The Lady of Shalott never experiences life except through glancing at it through the mirror's reflection, in the reflection of Lancelot's armour, in the reflection on the lake.
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