Tennyson's famous "The Lady of Shalott" (1842) is a haunting tale of magic and art. In this poem, a mysterious woman lives alone on the island of Shalott. Just down the river from her is King Arthur's court at Camelot, but the Lady of Shalott is not allowed even to look in that direction, much less travel there: a mysterious curse forbids it. Instead of actually seeing the world, then, she looks into a magic mirror that shows her images of the world and then weaves exquisite tapestries representing what she sees. As in all fairy tales, however, the rules exist only to be broken; the poem tells the story of why the Lady finally looks out her window, and explores the fatal consequences of this spell-breaking. The poem is often interpreted as a metaphor for the solitary nature of the artist's creative life, suggesting that the artist must be distanced, and inevitably isolated, from the surrounding world.
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Part I
1On either side the river lie
2Long fields of barley and of rye,
3That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
4And thro' the field the road runs by
5 To many-tower'd Camelot;
6And up and down the people go,
7Gazing where the lilies blow
8Round an island there below,
9 The island of Shalott.
10Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
11Little breezes dusk and shiver
12Thro' the wave that runs for ever
13By the island in the river
14 Flowing down to Camelot.
15Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
16Overlook a space of flowers,
17And the silent isle imbowers
18 The Lady of Shalott.
19By the margin, willow veil'd,
20Slide the heavy barges trail'd
21By slow horses; and unhail'd
22The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
23 Skimming down to Camelot:
24But who hath seen her wave her hand?
25Or at the casement seen her stand?
26Or is she known in all the land,
27 The Lady of Shalott?
28Only reapers, reaping early
29In among the bearded barley,
30Hear a song that echoes cheerly
31From the river winding clearly,
32 Down to tower'd Camelot:
33And by the moon the reaper weary,
34Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
35Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
36 Lady of Shalott."
Part II
37There she weaves by night and day
38A magic web with colours gay.
39She has heard a whisper say,
40A curse is on her if she stay
41 To look down to Camelot.
42She knows not what the curse may be,
43And so she weaveth steadily,
44And little other care hath she,
45 The Lady of Shalott.
46And moving thro' a mirror clear
47That hangs before her all the year,
48Shadows of the world appear.
49There she sees the highway near
50 Winding down to Camelot:
51There the river eddy whirls,
52And there the surly village-churls,
53And the red cloaks of market girls,
54 Pass onward from Shalott.
55Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
56An abbot on an ambling pad,
57Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
58Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
59 Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
60And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
61The knights come riding two and two:
62She hath no loyal knight and true,
63 The Lady of Shalott.
64But in her web she still delights
65To weave the mirror's magic sights,
66For often thro' the silent nights
67A funeral, with plumes and lights
68 And music, went to Camelot:
69Or when the moon was overhead,
70Came two young lovers lately wed:
71"I am half sick of shadows," said
72 The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
73A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
74He rode between the barley-sheaves,
75The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
76And flamed upon the brazen greaves
77 Of bold Sir Lancelot.
78A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
79To a lady in his shield,
80That sparkled on the yellow field,
81 Beside remote Shalott.
82The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
83Like to some branch of stars we see
84Hung in the golden Galaxy.
85The bridle bells rang merrily
86 As he rode down to Camelot:
87And from his blazon'd baldric slung
88A mighty silver bugle hung,
89And as he rode his armour rung,
90 Beside remote Shalott.
91All in the blue unclouded weather
92Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
93The helmet and the helmet-feather
94Burn'd like one burning flame together,
95 As he rode down to Camelot.
96As often thro' the purple night,
97Below the starry clusters bright,
98Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
99 Moves over still Shalott.
100His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
101On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
102From underneath his helmet flow'd
103His coal-black curls as on he rode,
104 As he rode down to Camelot.
105From the bank and from the river
106He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
107"Tirra lirra," by the river
108 Sang Sir Lancelot.
109She left the web, she left the loom,
110She made three paces thro' the room,
111She saw the water-lily bloom,
112She saw the helmet and the plume,
113 She look'd down to Camelot.
114Out flew the web and floated wide;
115The mirror crack'd from side to side;
116"The curse is come upon me," cried
117 The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV
118In the stormy east-wind straining,
119The pale yellow woods were waning,
120The broad stream in his banks complaining,
121Heavily the low sky raining
122 Over tower'd Camelot;
123Down she came and found a boat
124Beneath a willow left afloat,
125And round about the prow she wrote
126 The Lady of Shalott.
127And down the river's dim expanse
128Like some bold seër in a trance,
129Seeing all his own mischance—
130With a glassy countenance
131 Did she look to Camelot.
132And at the closing of the day
133She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
134The broad stream bore her far away,
135 The Lady of Shalott.
136Lying, robed in snowy white
137That loosely flew to left and right—
138The leaves upon her falling light—
139Thro' the noises of the night
140 She floated down to Camelot:
141And as the boat-head wound along
142The willowy hills and fields among,
143They heard her singing her last song,
144 The Lady of Shalott.
145Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
146Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
147Till her blood was frozen slowly,
148And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
149 Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
150For ere she reach'd upon the tide
151The first house by the water-side,
152Singing in her song she died,
153 The Lady of Shalott.
154Under tower and balcony,
155By garden-wall and gallery,
156A gleaming shape she floated by,
157Dead-pale between the houses high,
158 Silent into Camelot.
159Out upon the wharfs they came,
160Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
161And round the prow they read her name,
162 The Lady of Shalott.
163Who is this? and what is here?
164And in the lighted palace near
165Died the sound of royal cheer;
166And they cross'd themselves for fear,
167 All the knights at Camelot:
168But Lancelot mused a little space;
169He said, "She has a lovely face;
170God in his mercy lend her grace,
171 The Lady of Shalott."
Part I
1On either side the river lie
2Long fields of barley and of rye,
3That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
4And thro' the field the road runs by
5 To many-tower'd Camelot;
6And up and down the people go,
7Gazing where the lilies blow
8Round an island there below,
9 The island of Shalott.
10Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
11Little breezes dusk and shiver
12Thro' the wave that runs for ever
13By the island in the river
14 Flowing down to Camelot.
15Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
16Overlook a space of flowers,
17And the silent isle imbowers
18 The Lady of Shalott.
19By the margin, willow veil'd,
20Slide the heavy barges trail'd
21By slow horses; and unhail'd
22The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
23 Skimming down to Camelot:
24But who hath seen her wave her hand?
25Or at the casement seen her stand?
26Or is she known in all the land,
27 The Lady of Shalott?
28Only reapers, reaping early
29In among the bearded barley,
30Hear a song that echoes cheerly
31From the river winding clearly,
32 Down to tower'd Camelot:
33And by the moon the reaper weary,
34Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
35Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
36 Lady of Shalott."
Part II
37There she weaves by night and day
38A magic web with colours gay.
39She has heard a whisper say,
40A curse is on her if she stay
41 To look down to Camelot.
42She knows not what the curse may be,
43And so she weaveth steadily,
44And little other care hath she,
45 The Lady of Shalott.
46And moving thro' a mirror clear
47That hangs before her all the year,
48Shadows of the world appear.
49There she sees the highway near
50 Winding down to Camelot:
51There the river eddy whirls,
52And there the surly village-churls,
53And the red cloaks of market girls,
54 Pass onward from Shalott.
55Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
56An abbot on an ambling pad,
57Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
58Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
59 Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
60And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
61The knights come riding two and two:
62She hath no loyal knight and true,
63 The Lady of Shalott.
64But in her web she still delights
65To weave the mirror's magic sights,
66For often thro' the silent nights
67A funeral, with plumes and lights
68 And music, went to Camelot:
69Or when the moon was overhead,
70Came two young lovers lately wed:
71"I am half sick of shadows," said
72 The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
73A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
74He rode between the barley-sheaves,
75The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
76And flamed upon the brazen greaves
77 Of bold Sir Lancelot.
78A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
79To a lady in his shield,
80That sparkled on the yellow field,
81 Beside remote Shalott.
82The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
83Like to some branch of stars we see
84Hung in the golden Galaxy.
85The bridle bells rang merrily
86 As he rode down to Camelot:
87And from his blazon'd baldric slung
88A mighty silver bugle hung,
89And as he rode his armour rung,
90 Beside remote Shalott.
91All in the blue unclouded weather
92Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
93The helmet and the helmet-feather
94Burn'd like one burning flame together,
95 As he rode down to Camelot.
96As often thro' the purple night,
97Below the starry clusters bright,
98Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
99 Moves over still Shalott.
100His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
101On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
102From underneath his helmet flow'd
103His coal-black curls as on he rode,
104 As he rode down to Camelot.
105From the bank and from the river
106He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
107"Tirra lirra," by the river
108 Sang Sir Lancelot.
109She left the web, she left the loom,
110She made three paces thro' the room,
111She saw the water-lily bloom,
112She saw the helmet and the plume,
113 She look'd down to Camelot.
114Out flew the web and floated wide;
115The mirror crack'd from side to side;
116"The curse is come upon me," cried
117 The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV
118In the stormy east-wind straining,
119The pale yellow woods were waning,
120The broad stream in his banks complaining,
121Heavily the low sky raining
122 Over tower'd Camelot;
123Down she came and found a boat
124Beneath a willow left afloat,
125And round about the prow she wrote
126 The Lady of Shalott.
127And down the river's dim expanse
128Like some bold seër in a trance,
129Seeing all his own mischance—
130With a glassy countenance
131 Did she look to Camelot.
132And at the closing of the day
133She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
134The broad stream bore her far away,
135 The Lady of Shalott.
136Lying, robed in snowy white
137That loosely flew to left and right—
138The leaves upon her falling light—
139Thro' the noises of the night
140 She floated down to Camelot:
141And as the boat-head wound along
142The willowy hills and fields among,
143They heard her singing her last song,
144 The Lady of Shalott.
145Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
146Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
147Till her blood was frozen slowly,
148And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
149 Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
150For ere she reach'd upon the tide
151The first house by the water-side,
152Singing in her song she died,
153 The Lady of Shalott.
154Under tower and balcony,
155By garden-wall and gallery,
156A gleaming shape she floated by,
157Dead-pale between the houses high,
158 Silent into Camelot.
159Out upon the wharfs they came,
160Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
161And round the prow they read her name,
162 The Lady of Shalott.
163Who is this? and what is here?
164And in the lighted palace near
165Died the sound of royal cheer;
166And they cross'd themselves for fear,
167 All the knights at Camelot:
168But Lancelot mused a little space;
169He said, "She has a lovely face;
170God in his mercy lend her grace,
171 The Lady of Shalott."
On 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,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' 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 veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'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?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
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 thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
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,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' 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 thro' 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.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd 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 blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
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,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
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 made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
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.
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 tower'd 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 seër 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—
Thro' 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 darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
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 cross'd 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."
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
A cartoon response — The modern-day cartoonist Kate Beaton with a feminist take on the poem.
Tennyson's Voice — Tennyson speaks! This is an early wax-cylinder recording of Tennyson reading another of his most famous poems, "The Charge of the Light Brigade." (This particular video also creepily animates a photo of his face.)
Side-by-Side Comparison of the Versions of "Shalott" — Tennyson wrote his first draft of "The Lady of Shalott" in 1833, and revised it substantially; the version we're using here is from 1842. In comparing the two versions, what do you notice? Why might Tennyson have made the changes he did?
A Short Biography of Tennyson — The Poetry Foundation's Tennyson page, with a short biography and links to more of his poems.
Art Inspired by the Poem — John William Waterhouse's famous interpretation of "The Lady of Shalott." Tennyson's poem was a popular subject for Pre-Raphaelite artists like Waterhouse; search for "Lady of Shalott" and "Pre-Raphaelite" to find many more Victorian painters' takes on the poem.