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The Lady of Shalott (1843 version) by Alfred Lord Tennyson. Part I 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.
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 through the field the road runs by. To many-towered 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.
Poems in Translation. English, French, German, Deutsch. The Lady of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson (1842) 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 run 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.
It includes aspens, lilies, and willows. A lady, known as Lady of Shalott, is imprisoned on an island in a building made up of “four gray walls and four gray towers.”. Along the edge of the river to Camelot, there are heavy barges and light open boat sail. However, no one heard or seen of the Lady living on the island.
Poetic Form: Ballad. Time Period: 19th Century. 'The Lady of Shalott' by Alfred, Lord Tennyson narrates the intriguing tale of the Lady of Shalott, capturing her captivating, fantastical world within its intricate web of rhyme and rhythm while exploring deeper issues of Victorian society amidst the mythical tragedy. View Poetry + Review Corner.
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,
