{"id":147,"date":"2010-02-08T05:12:27","date_gmt":"2010-02-08T05:12:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=147"},"modified":"2010-02-08T05:12:27","modified_gmt":"2010-02-08T05:12:27","slug":"the-lady-of-shalott-by-alfred-lord-tennyson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/the-lady-of-shalott-by-alfred-lord-tennyson\/","title":{"rendered":"The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1909-1892)<\/p>\n

The Lady of Shalott<\/p>\n

Part I<\/p>\n

On either side the river lie
\nLong fields of barley and of rye,
\nThat clothe the wold and meet the sky;
\nAnd through the field the road runs by
\nTo many-towered Camelot;
\nAnd up and down the people go,
\nGazing where the lilies blow
\nRound an island there below,
\nThe island of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
\nLittle breezes dusk and shiver
\nThrough the wave that runs for ever
\nBy the island in the river
\nFlowing down to Camelot.
\nFour grey walls, and four grey towers,
\nOverlook a space of flowers,
\nAnd the silent isle imbowers
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

By the margin, willow-veiled,
\nSlide the heavy barges trailed
\nBy slow horses; and unhailed
\nThe shallop flitteth silken-sailed
\nSkimming down to Camelot:
\nBut who hath seen her wave her hand?
\nOr at the casement seen her stand?
\nOr is she known in all the land,
\nThe Lady of Shalott?<\/p>\n

Only reapers, reaping early
\nIn among the bearded barley,
\nHear a song that echoes cheerly
\nFrom the river winding clearly,
\nDown to towered Camelot:
\nAnd by the moon the reaper weary,
\nPiling sheaves in uplands airy,
\nListening, whispers “‘Tis the fairy
\nLady of Shalott.”<\/p>\n

Part II<\/p>\n

There she weaves by night and day
\nA magic web with colours gay.
\nShe has heard a whisper say,
\nA curse is on her if she stay
\nTo look down to Camelot.
\nShe knows not what the curse may be,
\nAnd so she weaveth steadily,
\nAnd little other care hath she,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

And moving through a mirror clear
\nThat hangs before her all the year,
\nShadows of the world appear.
\nThere she sees the highway near
\nWinding down to Camelot:
\nThere the river eddy whirls,
\nAnd there the surly village-churls,
\nAnd the red cloaks of market girls,
\nPass onward from Shalott.<\/p>\n

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
\nAn abbot on an ambling pad,
\nSometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
\nOr long-haired page in crimson clad,
\nGoes by to towered Camelot;
\nAnd sometimes through the mirror blue
\nThe knights come riding two and two:
\nShe hath no loyal knight and true,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

But in her web she still delights
\nTo weave the mirror’s magic sights,
\nFor often through the silent nights
\nA funeral, with plumes and lights
\nAnd music, went to Camelot:
\nOr when the moon was overhead,
\nCame two young lovers lately wed;
\n“I am half sick of shadows,” said
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Part III<\/p>\n

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
\nHe rode between the barley-sheaves,
\nThe sun came dazzling through the leaves,
\nAnd flamed upon the brazen greaves
\nOf bold Sir Lancelot.
\nA red-cross knight for ever kneeled
\nTo a lady in his shield,
\nThat sparkled on the yellow field,
\nBeside remote Shalott.<\/p>\n

The gemmy bridle glittered free,
\nLike to some branch of stars we see
\nHung in the golden Galaxy.
\nThe bridle bells rang merrily
\nAs he rode down to Camelot:
\nAnd from his blazoned baldric slung
\nA mighty silver bugle hung,
\nAnd as he rode his armour rung,
\nBeside remote Shalott.<\/p>\n

All in the blue unclouded weather
\nThick-jewelled shone the saddle-leather,
\nThe helmet and the helmet-feather
\nBurned like one burning flame together,
\nAs he rode down to Camelot.
\nAs often through the purple night,
\nBelow the starry clusters bright,
\nSome bearded meteor, trailing light,
\nMoves over still Shalott.<\/p>\n

His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;
\nOn burnished hooves his war-horse trode;
\nFrom underneath his helmet flowed
\nHis coal-black curls as on he rode,
\nAs he rode down to Camelot.
\nFrom the bank and from the river
\nHe flashed into the crystal mirror,
\n“Tirra lirra,” by the river
\nSang Sir Lancelot.<\/p>\n

She left the web, she left the loom,
\nShe made three paces through the room,
\nShe saw the water-lily bloom,
\nShe saw the helmet and the plume,
\nShe looked down to Camelot.
\nOut flew the web and floated wide;
\nThe mirror cracked from side to side;
\n“The curse is come upon me,” cried
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Part IV<\/p>\n

In the stormy east-wind straining,
\nThe pale yellow woods were waning,
\nThe broad stream in his banks complaining,
\nHeavily the low sky raining
\nOver towered Camelot;
\nDown she came and found a boat
\nBeneath a willow left afloat,
\nAnd round about the prow she wrote
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

And down the river’s dim expanse,
\nLike some bold seer in a trance
\nSeeing all his own mischance,
\nWith a glassy countenance
\nDid she look to Camelot.
\nAnd at the closing of the day
\nShe loosed the chain, and down she lay;
\nThe broad stream bore her far away,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Lying, robed in snowy white
\nThat loosely flew to left and right –
\nThe leaves upon her falling light –
\nThrough the noises of the night
\nShe floated down to Camelot:
\nAnd as the boat-head wound along
\nThe willowy hills and fields among,
\nThey heard her singing her last song,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
\nChanted loudly, chanted lowly,
\nTill her blood was frozen slowly,
\nAnd her eyes were darkened wholly,
\nTurned to towered Camelot.
\nFor ere she reached upon the tide
\nThe first house by the water-side,
\nSinging in her song she died,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Under tower and balcony,
\nBy garden-wall and gallery,
\nA gleaming shape she floated by,
\nDead-pale between the houses high,
\nSilent into Camelot.
\nOut upon the wharfs they came,
\nKnight and burgher, lord and dame,
\nAnd round the prow they read her name,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.<\/p>\n

Who is this? and what is here?
\nAnd in the lighted palace near
\nDied the sound of royal cheer;
\nAnd they crossed themselves for fear,
\nAll the knights at Camelot:
\nBut Lancelot mused a little space;
\nHe said, “She has a lovely face;
\nGod in his mercy lend her grace,
\nThe Lady of Shalott.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1909-1892)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4,40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-147","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1800s","category-tennyson"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t