Part I

On either side the river lie

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

The yellow-leaved waterlily

Tremble in the water chilly

Round about Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens shiver.

In the stream that runneth ever

Four gray walls, and four gray towers

And the silent isle imbowers

The Lady of Shalott.

Underneath the bearded barley,

Hears her ever chanting cheerly,

Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,

Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy,

Lady of Shalott.'

The little isle is all inrail'd

With roses: by the marge unhail'd

A pearl garland winds her head:

Full royally apparelled,

The Lady of Shalott.

Part II

No time hath she to sport and play:

A curse is on her, if she stay

Therefore she weaveth steadily,

She lives with little joy or fear.

The sheepbell tinkles in her ear.

And as the mazy web she whirls,

And the red cloaks of market girls

Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

She hath no loyal knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights

For often thro' the silent nights

Or when the moon was overhead

'I am half sick of shadows,' said

The Lady of Shalott.

Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd

That sparkled on the yellow field,

Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,

Hung in the golden Galaxy.

And from his blazon'd baldric slung

And as he rode his armour rung,

Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather

The helmet and the helmet-feather

As often thro' the purple night,

Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

Moves over green Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

From underneath his helmet flow'd

From the bank and from the river

'Tirra lirra, tirra lirra:'

Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom

She saw the water-flower bloom,

Out flew the web and floated wide;

'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,

Outside the isle a shallow boat

Below the carven stern she wrote,

The Lady of Shalott.

A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight,

That loosely flew (her zone in sight

Though the squally east-wind keenly

By the water stood the queenly

Lady of Shalott.

With a steady stony glance—

Beholding all his own mischance,

It was the closing of the day:

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.

As when to sailors while they roam,

Rising and dropping with the foam,

Still as the boathead wound along

They heard her chanting her deathsong,

The Lady of Shalott.

A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,

Till her eyes were darken'd wholly,

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,

A pale, pale corpse she floated by,

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

Below the stern they read her name,

The Lady of Shalott.

They cross'd themselves, their stars they blest,

There lay a parchment on her breast,

'The web was woven curiously,

Draw near and fear not,—this is I,

The Lady of Shalott.'