624 ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON [1809-1892] THE LADY OF SHALOTT Ο PART I N 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, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. And the silent isle imbowers By the margin, willow-veil'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? 967 Only reapers, reaping early Down to tower'd Camelot: PART II There she weaves by night and day 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 thro' a mirror clear 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, Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights And music, went to Camelot: The Lady of Shalott. PART III A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd That sparkled on the yellow field, The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, 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 armour rung, All in the blue unclouded weather As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; As he rode down to Camelot. Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She look'd down to Camelot. PART IV In the stormy east-wind straining, 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 And down the river's dim expanse— 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. |