It is about a woman

who broke the

curse and fell in
love with a man,
however the The Lady of Shalott, Alfred Lord Tennyson (1832)
consequence of
breaking the rules
is dying.
Camelot is a Her life: does
Part I (Stanzas 1-4) not have time to Part II (Stanzas 5-8)
fictional city
everybody was waste around No time hath she to sport and play:
On either side the river lie
happy in there, like napping. A charmed web she weaves alway.
Long fields of barley and of rye,
there was no That clothe the wold and meet the sky; There is a case A curse is on her, if she stay
racism. And thro' the field the road runs by on her, if she Her weaving, either night or day,
To many-tower'd Camelot; stops weaving, To look down to Camelot.
The describtion of
The yellow-leaved waterlily she'll break the She knows not what the curse may be;
the place: The
The green-sheathed daffodilly curse and there Therefore she weaveth steadily,
yellow-leaved
Tremble in the water chilly will be Therefore no other care hath she,
waterlily, The green-
Round about Shalott. consequences The Lady of Shalott.
sheathed daffodilly,
such as dead.
Tremble in the
water chilly Willows whiten, aspens shiver. She lives with little joy or fear.
The woman is The sunbeam showers break and quiver She looks at the Over the water, running near,
In the stream that runneth ever outer world by a The sheepbell tinkles in her ear.
isolated and alone
By the island in the river mirror; it's Before her hangs a mirror clear,
and cut off from
Flowing down to Camelot. placed in front Reflecting tower'd Camelot.
all of the
Four gray walls, and four gray towers of her and by it And as the mazy web she whirls,
surroundings She sees the surly village churls,
Overlook a space of flowers, she sees what's
because she was And the red cloaks of market girls
And the silent isle imbowers outside.
stuck in an island, The Lady of Shalott. Pass onward from Shalott.
Life goes around
She hears
her despite her Underneath the bearded barley, Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
many things
being stuck in a The reaper, reaping late and early, An abbot on an ambling pad,
and sees many
tower or a castle. Hears her ever chanting cheerly, Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
things which is
She is like a fairy. Like an angel, singing clearly,
a torture for her. Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
O'er the stream of Camelot. Goes by to tower'd Camelot:
This island is
Piling the sheaves in furrows airy, 3rd paragraph - And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
surrounded by The knights come riding two and two:
Beneath the moon, the reaper weary
beautiful roses She hath no loyal knight and true,
Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy, She's envious
and nice places The Lady of Shalott.
Lady of Shalott.' with what
however a cage
is a cage even if people do and
The little isle is all inrail'd But in her web she still delights
it was surrounded With a rose-fence, and overtrail'd she is sick of To weave the mirror's magic sights,
by beautiful the non-existing For often thro' the silent nights
With roses: by the marge unhail'd
things. life she has. A funeral, with plumes and lights
The shallop flitteth silken sail'd,
nobody knows And music, came from Camelot:
Skimming down to Camelot.
A pearl garland winds her head:
about her. Or when the moon was overhead
She leaneth on a velvet bed, Came two young lovers lately wed;
Full royally apparelled, 'I am half sick of shadows,' said
The Lady of Shalott. The Lady of Shalott.
A knight in brass The color that
armor (“brazen identifies the living
greaves”) comes condition of lady ...
riding through the is grey.
fields of barley as soon as lady
beside Shalott; the Part III (Stanzas 9-13) Shallotte take Part IV (Stanzas 14-19)
sun shines on his matters in her hand
armor and makes A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, by breaking the In the stormy east-wind straining,
it sparkle. As he He rode between the barley-sheaves, rules, the weather The pale yellow woods were waning,
rides, the gems onThe sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, changes and The broad stream in his banks complaining,
his horse’s bridle And flam'd upon the brazen greaves became stormy. Heavily the low sky raining
glitter like a Of bold Sir Lancelot. Over tower'd Camelot;
constellation of A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd Outside the isle a shallow boat
The weather is a
stars, and the To a lady in his shield, Beneath a willow lay afloat,
sign of something
bells on the bridle That sparkled on the yellow field, Below the carven stern she wrote,
that's going to
ring. The knight Beside remote Shalott. The Lady of Shalott.
happen
hangs a bugle
from his sash, and The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight,
Like to some branch of stars we see Lady Shallotte
his armor makes All raimented in snowy white
Hung in the golden Galaxy. leaves the tower
ringing noises as That loosely flew (her zone in sight
The bridle bells rang merrily and tries to escape
he gallops Clasp'd with one blinding diamond bright)
As he rode down from Camelot: by a boat but little
alongside the Her wide eyes fix'd on Camelot,
And from his blazon'd baldric slung does she knows that Though the squally east-wind keenly
remote island of this boat is going to Blew, with folded arms serenely
Shalott. A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung, be her death bed. By the water stood the queenly
Beside remote Shalott. Lady of Shalott.
In the “blue, Lady Shallotte
unclouded
All in the blue unclouded weather wanted to join the With a steady stony glance—
weather,” the
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, society. Like some bold seer in a trance,
jewels on the The helmet and the helmet-feather
knight’s saddle Burn'd like one burning flame together, She wasn't scared Beholding all his own mischance,
shine, making him Mute, with a glassy countenance—
As he rode down from Camelot. at all, she wasn't She look'd down to Camelot.
look like a meteor As often thro' the purple night, crying or screaming.
in the purple sky. It was the closing of the day:
Below the starry clusters bright, She was brave She loos'd the chain, and down she lay;
His forehead Some bearded meteor, trailing light, enough to face the The broad stream bore her far away,
glows in the Moves over green Shalott. curse that was The Lady of Shalott.
sunlight, and his placed on her.
black curly hair His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
As when to sailors while they roam,
flows out from On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;She is meeting
By creeks and outfalls far from home,
under his helmet. From underneath his helmet flow'd death, it is more like
Rising and dropping with the foam,
As he passes by His coal-black curls as on he rode, she is facing death From dying swans wild warblings come,
the river, his As he rode down from Camelot. and looking at it in Blown shoreward; so to Camelot
image flashes into From the bank and from the river the eyes; even Still as the boathead wound along
the Lady of Shalott’ He flash'd into the crystal mirror, though, she is never The willowy hills and fields among,
s mirror and he 'Tirra lirra, tirra lirra:' scared They heard her chanting her deathsong,
sings out “tirra Sang Sir Lancelot.
The Lady of Shalott.
lirra.” Upon seeing The sun sets= death
and hearing this She left the web, she left the loom
is approaching her. A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,
knight, the Lady She made three paces thro' the room
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
stops weaving her She saw the water-flower bloom, Lady's in literature Till her eyes were darken'd wholly,
web and She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot. sing a song before And her smooth face sharpen'd slowly,
abandons her their death Turn'd to tower'd Camelot:
loom. The web Out flew the web and floated wide;
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
flies out from the The mirror crack'd from side to side; she can her that The first house by the water-side,
loom, and the 'The curse is come upon me,' cried
The Lady of Shalott. death is coming Singing in her song she died,
mirror cracks, and The Lady of Shalott.
the Lady while singing her
announces the song, she dies Under tower and balcony,
arrival of her By garden wall and gallery,
doom: “The curse Lady Shallotte died, A pale, pale corpse she floated by,
is come upon me.”. nobody knows who Deadcold, between the houses high,
she is. They only Dead into tower'd Camelot.
know that she is the Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
lady of Shallotte but To the planked wharfage came:
they don't know her Below the stern they read her name,
real name The Lady of Shalott.