March 26, 2022

The Lady of Shalott
By: Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1842)

Part I 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; 5 The yellow-leaved waterlily The green-sheathed daffodilly Tremble in the water chilly      Round about Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens shiver. 10 The sunbeam showers break and quiver In the stream that runneth ever By the island in the river      Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers 15 Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers      The Lady of Shalott. Underneath the bearded barley, The reaper, reaping late and early, 20 Hears her ever chanting cheerly, Like an angel, singing clearly,      O’er the stream of Camelot. Piling the sheaves in furrows airy, Beneath the moon, the reaper weary 25 Listening whispers, “ ’Tis the fairy,      Lady of Shalott.” The little isle is all inrail’d With a rose-fence, and overtrail’d With roses: by the marge unhail’d 30 The shallop flitteth silken sail’d,      Skimming down to Camelot. A pearl garland winds her head: She leaneth on a velvet bed, Full royally apparelled, 35      The Lady of Shalott. Part II 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 40      To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be; Therefore she weaveth steadily, Therefore no other care hath she,      The Lady of Shalott. 45 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: 50 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, 55 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 60 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, 65 For often thro’ the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights      And music, came from Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead Came two young lovers lately wed; 70 “I am half sick of shadows,” said      The Lady of Shalott. Part III A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves, 75 And flam’d 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, 80      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 85      As he rode down from Camelot: And from his blazon’d baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung,      Beside remote Shalott. 90 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 from Camelot. 100 As often thro’ the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light,      Moves over green Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d; 105 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 from Camelot. From the bank and from the river 110 He flash’d into the crystal mirror, “Tirra lirra, tirra lirra”:      Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom She made three paces thro’ the room 115 She saw the water-flower 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; 120 “The curse is come upon me,” cried      The Lady of Shalott. Part IV In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, 125 Heavily the low sky raining      Over tower’d Camelot; Outside the isle a shallow boat Beneath a willow lay afloat, Below the carven stern she wrote, 130      The Lady of Shalott. A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight, All raimented in snowy white That loosely flew (her zone in sight Clasp’d with one blinding diamond bright) 135      Her wide eyes fix’d on Camelot, Though the squally east-wind keenly Blew, with folded arms serenely By the water stood the queenly      Lady of Shalott. 140 With a steady stony glance— Like some bold seer in a trance, Beholding all his own mischance, Mute, with a glassy countenance—      She look’d down to Camelot. 145 It was the closing of the day: She loos’d the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away,      The Lady of Shalott. As when to sailors while they roam, 150 By creeks and outfalls far from home, Rising and dropping with the foam, From dying swans wild warblings come,      Blown shoreward; so to Camelot Still as the boathead wound along 155 The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her chanting her deathsong,      The Lady of Shalott. A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy, She chanted loudly, chanted lowly, 160 Till her eyes were darken’d wholly, And her smooth face sharpen’d slowly,      Turn’d to tower’d Camelot: For ere she reach’d upon the tide The first house by the water-side, 165 Singing in her song she died,      The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden wall and gallery, A pale, pale corpse she floated by, 170 Deadcold, between the houses high,      Dead into tower’d Camelot. Knight and burgher, lord and dame, To the planked wharfage came: Below the stern they read her name, 175      The Lady of Shalott. They cross'd themselves, their stars they blest, Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest. There lay a parchment on her breast, That puzzled more than all the rest, 180      The wellfed wits at Camelot. “The web was woven curiously, The charm is broken utterly, Draw near and fear not,—this is I,      The Lady of Shalott.” 185

Introduction

Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott,” published in 1833 and revised in 1842, is one of his most well-known works, reflecting both the medievalism and the preoccupations with isolation and art that characterize much of Victorian literature. The poem, set in the Arthurian world of Camelot, is influenced by the medieval romances and legends that captivated Tennyson, as well as the work of Romantic poets like Keats and Wordsworth, who explored the tension between the imagination and reality.

The poem is structured in four parts, each composed of nine-line stanzas with a distinct rhyme scheme that reinforces the lyrical quality of the narrative. This structure allows Tennyson to build a rhythm that mirrors the repetitive, confined life of the Lady of Shalott, who is cursed to live isolated in a tower, weaving images of the world that she can only see through a mirror. The Lady’s existence in the tower, “half sick of shadows,” symbolizes the theme of the artist’s isolation and the tension between the inner world of imagination and the outer world of reality.

The central symbol of the mirror in the poem reflects this theme, representing the Lady’s mediated experience of life, one step removed from reality. Her weaving is another key symbol, standing for the creative process itself—an activity that is both fulfilling and confining. The moment she turns to look directly at Sir Lancelot, breaking the mirror and initiating her doom, can be interpreted as the artist’s fatal engagement with the real world, a common theme in Tennyson’s work. The curse that befalls her when she looks directly at the world can be seen as a metaphor for the dangers of stepping outside one’s prescribed role or the conflict between idealism and reality.

Tennyson’s use of language is rich with imagery and allusion, drawing on the medieval setting to create a sense of timelessness and fate. The repetition of certain phrases, such as “the mirror crack’d from side to side,” emphasizes the inevitability of the Lady’s tragic end. The imagery of water, with the river that flows past her tower and eventually carries her to Camelot, serves as a metaphor for the passage of time and the unstoppable flow of life, which the Lady is ultimately powerless to resist.

Tennyson blends narrative and lyrical elements, creating a poem that is as much about the experience of reading and imagining as it is about the story itself. This blending reflects the Victorian fascination with the role of the artist and the boundaries between art and life. Other Victorian literary characteristics include a fascination with medievalism and chivalry, as well as an exploration of the role of women in society. The Lady of Shalott’s passive existence and her tragic end can be read as a commentary on the limited roles available to women in the Victorian era, confined to the domestic sphere and largely excluded from public life.

“The Lady of Shalott” remains relevant for its exploration of the artist’s role in society, the conflict between illusion and reality, and the constraints placed on individuals—especially women—by societal expectations. The poem continues to resonate with modern readers who grapple with questions of identity, creativity, and the cost of pursuing one’s desires in a world that often demands conformity.

Questions for Consideration

Notes & Commentary