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Book Five
Unit Studies- The Arthurian Romances
The
Lady of Shallot by John William Waterhouse
The Lady of Shallot
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey 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 through 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 through 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 through 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 armor 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, burning bright,
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 flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by
the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through 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 around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer 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 darkened 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 around 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 crossed 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."
Websites
King Arthur--- http://www.kingarthursknights.com/
King Arthur-- http://www.britannia.com/history/h12.html
Sir Thomas Malory-- http://www.luminarium.org/medlit/malory.htm
Sir Edmund Spenser--- http://www.luminarium.org/renlit/spenser.htm
Alfred, Lord Tennyson-- http://charon.sfsu.edu/TENNYSON/tennyson.html
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