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.
Lady Shallot saw him in the mirror and lost her guard. She was so taken by his appearance that she stopped her work and looked at him, knowing full well what the consequences would be to risk the mysterious curse.
The mirror broke, and her web unexplainably falls into the river and floats down to Camelot, on seeing that she knew she had been cursed. In this last part, she abandoned her tower for the river banks. The atmosphere was not favorable as it was stormy. She found a boat and scribbled down her name on it around the edges. She entered the boat wearing a white flowing gown and ventured down the river, heading for Camelot. It was unfortunately very cold for she froze to death before she reached Camelot.
The Nobles of Camelot all came out to look at the dead woman in a lovely boat. They read her name written on the boat and kept questioning themselves on who the woman was.
The most ironical part was when Sir Lancelot, whom the Lady craved for bowed down next to her corpse and sorrowfully commented that the Lady has a lovely and pleaded for God to lend her grace. The poem gave descriptions of pastoral settings. Trees, wind, river, castle, farmers, and river. The appearance must have been rustic in nature. The theme of Isolation and Loneliness is the dominant theme therein.
She exists under a spell even without knowing how the curse came about or who cursed her. Tennyson did not provide an explanation based on the origin of the curse. The lady spends her life only weaving and only saw the world through a mirror.
There is nothing that sounds more lonely and depriving than that. The downfall and death of the lady were as a result of her attraction to Sir Lancelot. She has heard a voice whisper that a curse will befall her if she looks down to Camelot, and she does not know what this curse would be. Thus, she concentrates solely on her weaving, never lifting her eyes. However, as she weaves, a mirror hangs before her. Occasionally, she also sees a group of damsels, an abbot church official , a young shepherd, or a page dressed in crimson.
She sometimes sights a pair of knights riding by, though she has no loyal knight of her own to court her. Nonetheless, she enjoys her solitary weaving, though she expresses frustration with the world of shadows when she glimpses a funeral procession or a pair of newlyweds in the mirror. The knight hangs a bugle from his sash, and his armor makes ringing noises as he gallops alongside the remote island of Shalott.
His forehead glows in the sunlight, and his black curly hair flows out from under his helmet. SparkTeach Teacher's Handbook.
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