17 THE LADY OF SHALOTT I N either side the river lie ΟΝ 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-towered Camelot; And up and down the people go, Round an island there below, Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, By the margin, willow-veiled, 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 Down to towered Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers ""Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." 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, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, And sometimes thro' the mirror blue But in her web she still delights And music, went to Camelot; Or when the moon was overhead, III A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, A red-cross knight for ever kneeled To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, The gemmy bridle glittered free, Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot; And from his blazoned 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, His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed; As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river She left the web, she left the loom, Out flew the web and floated wide; "The curse come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. IV In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, Over towered 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, Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right- She floated down to Camelot; And as the boat-head wound along |