Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs forever
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.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse strode; 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.
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 forever kneel'd
That sparkled on the yellow field,
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 darken'd 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 round 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 cross'd 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."
THE TWO VOICES
A still small voice spake unto me, "Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?"
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