Poem: The Lady of Shalott

Setting and Premise

A broad river runs to Camelot, passing an island called Shalott. There, in a stone tower with "four gray walls, and four gray towers", dwells a mysterious woman known only as the Lady of Shalott. Barges and skiffs glide by; fields of barley and rye rustle; reapers at the river’s edge sometimes hear her singing and whisper her name. Yet no one has seen her. The poem’s ballad measure, refrains of "Camelot" and "Shalott", and the medieval scenery establish a dreamlike distance between the bustling mainland and the secluded isle where the Lady lives apart.

The Curse and the Loom

The Lady is subject to an unexplained curse forbidding her to look directly toward Camelot. To know the world she turns her back to the window and watches a mirror that reflects the road and river behind her. What she sees only as reflections, market girls in red cloaks, shepherds, funerals, weddings, knights riding two by two, she translates into a woven web, an artwork of shimmering scenes. Though her song and tapestry fill the tower with life, the pageant in the glass begins to feel hollow. After watching lovers moving through the reflected world, she murmurs, "I am half sick of shadows", revealing the strain of her beautifully ordered isolation.

Lancelot and the Breaking of the Spell

One day Sir Lancelot rides by, a knight of unmatched splendor. Sunlight flashes on his polished mail; gems sparkle on bridle and saddle; his shield, plume, and strong song send glimmers and echoes up the river. The mirror fills with his dazzling image, not a distant pageant but a vivid presence. The Lady is moved beyond restraint. She leaves the loom, crosses the room, and looks out directly toward Camelot. At once the woven web flies apart; the mirror splits from side to side. "The curse is come upon me", she cries, naming at last the doom that has hovered unspoken over her confined vision and her art.

The River Journey

Accepting that she has brought the doom upon herself, the Lady descends to the riverbank. She finds a boat, writes her name upon its prow, lies down within, and looses the chain. The current carries her from Shalott toward Camelot through autumn fields and under rainy skies. As the boat drifts, she sings a final, haunting song, her life ebbing with the river’s flow. The movement that once passed her tower as mere reflection now bears her body in reality. By the time the craft reaches the city’s wharves and palace lights, her song has faded and she lies cold, still bearing the name "The Lady of Shalott".

Arrival and Response

The people of Camelot, knights, ladies, and courtiers, gather to look, uneasy and curious, crossing themselves before the unknown beauty who has entered their midst by death. Last comes Lancelot, who pauses over the figure in the boat and utters a brief benediction: that she has a lovely face and that God in his mercy lend her grace, the Lady of Shalott. The poem traces a simple arc, separation, temptation, transgression, and mortal passage, yet glimmers with questions about art and life, the safety of shadows versus the peril of direct encounter, and the cost of turning from crafted images to embodied experience.