Poems

The Lady Of Shalott

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road runs by

To many-towered Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies below
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspen quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river

Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shallot.

By the margin, willow-veiled,
Slide the heavy barged trailed
By slow horses; and unhailed
The shallop flitteth silken-sailed

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 Shalot?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly,
From the river winding clearly,

Down to towered Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whisper "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."

By: Alfred, Lord Tennyson