On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the world 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,
Litle breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs forever
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?
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.
Andby the moon th reaper weary.
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, "'Tis the fairy
� Lady of Shalott."
II.
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colors gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
� To look down to Camelot.
She knows not whatthe curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
� The Lady of Shalott.
And moving throuh a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear
There she sees the nighway near
� Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly willage churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
� Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abot on an amblin 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.
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 forever 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 balark slung
A might silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung,
� Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue, unclouded weather
Thick-jeweled 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 burnish'dhooves 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 an dfrom the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the rive
� Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the helmet and te 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.
IV.
In the stormy east wind straining,
The pale yelow 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 mischnce--
With a glassy countenance
� Did she look to Camelot;
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the shain, 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 boathead wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
� The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Shanted loudly, chanted lowly,
'Til 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 waterside,
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 ligted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
� All the Knights of 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."