PART II.

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colors 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,
Shadow 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-haired page in crimson clad,
Goes by to towered 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.

PART III.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling through the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A redcross knight for ever kneeled
To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glittered 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 blazoned baldric slung

A mighty silver bugle hung,

And as he rode his armor rung,

Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewelled shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burned like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.

As often through the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;
On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his hemlet flowed
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 looked down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror cracked from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

Over towered

Down she came and f

Beneath a willow left

And round about the
The Lady of

And down the river's
Like some bold seër i

Seeing all his own mi

room,

2,

ot.

e;

side;

-ied

With a glassy counter
Did she look t

And at the closing of

She loosed the chain,

The broad stream bor
The Lady of

Lying, robed in snow
That loosely flew to l

The leaves upon her
Through the noises of

She floated do

And as the boat-head

The willowy hills and
They heard her singi
The Lady of

Turned to towered Camelot ; or ere she reached upon the tide e first house by the water-side,

nging in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

ader tower and balcony,

y garden-wall and gallery,
gleaming shape she floated by,
ead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.

ut upon the wharves they came,
night and burgher, lord and dame,
nd round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

ho is this? and what is here?

nd in the lighted palace near

ied the sound of royal cheer;
nd they crossed themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:

ut Lancelot mused a little space;
Le said, "She has a lovely face;