To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And little other care/hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. 1 There she sees the highway near Winding/down to Camelot : There the river eddy whirls, Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot ; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two : But in her web she still delights For often thro' the silent nights 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, A red cross knight for ever kneel'd That sparkled on the yellow field, The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Hung in the golden Galaxy. 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 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. 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 From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, 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; The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. PART IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The broad stream in his banks complaining, 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- 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— She floated down to Camelot : And as the boat-head wound along Heard a/carol, mournful, holy, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reach'd upon the tide Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. |