“The Lady of Shalott” by Alfred Tennyson: A Critical Analysis

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.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,

Little breezes dusk and shiver

Thro’ 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 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.”

Part II

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

A curse is on her if she stay

       To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

       The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro’ a mirror clear

That hangs before her all the year,

Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near

       Winding down to Camelot:

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.

Part III

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 for ever kneel’d

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,

       Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter’d free,

Like to some branch of stars we see

Hung in the golden Galaxy.

The bridle bells rang merrily

       As he rode down to Camelot:

And from his blazon’d baldric slung

A mighty silver bugle hung,

And as he rode his armour rung,

       Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn’d like one burning flame together,

       As he rode down to Camelot.

As often thro’ the purple night,

Below the starry clusters bright,

Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

       Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;

On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;

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.

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro’ the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

       She look’d down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack’d from side to side;

“The curse is come upon me,” cried

       The Lady of Shalott.

Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

       Over tower’d Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat,

And round about the prow she wrote

       The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river’s dim expanse

Like some bold seër in a trance,

Seeing all his own mischance—

With a glassy countenance

       Did she look to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

       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,

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.”

·         What role does the curse play in shaping the Lady of Shalott’s actions and fate?

• The curse that binds the Lady of Shalott is central to her existence and drives the entire narrative. It limits her ability to interact with the outside world, confining her to weaving and only experiencing life through the reflections in her mirror. However, the nature of the curse remains ambiguous—Tennyson never fully explains what will happen if she looks directly at Camelot, which creates a sense of mystery and inevitability. When she finally sees Sir Lancelot and defies the curse, the consequences are immediate and fatal: “The mirror crack’d from side to side; / ‘The curse is come upon me,’ cried / The Lady of Shalott.” This raises questions about whether the curse represents societal expectations, the dangers of breaking free from prescribed roles, or even a deeper existential fate that governs human action.

·         How does Tennyson portray the conflict between isolation and engagement with the world in the poem?

• Throughout the poem, the Lady of Shalott is physically isolated from the bustling life of Camelot, watching the world pass by only through a mirror. This separation from reality can be seen as a metaphor for the conflict between detachment and engagement with life. Her isolation allows her to live a peaceful, albeit monotonous, life, but it also creates a deep sense of dissatisfaction, as she becomes “half sick of shadows.” Her desire to engage with the world, represented by her fascination with Sir Lancelot, ultimately leads her to abandon her isolated position, but this engagement brings about her death. Tennyson seems to suggest that while isolation may protect one from the risks of life, true experience can only be gained through engagement, even at a personal cost.

·         What is the significance of Sir Lancelot in the Lady of Shalott’s decision to break free from her isolation?

• Sir Lancelot represents the allure of the external world and serves as the catalyst for the Lady’s tragic decision to break free from her confinement. His presence in the poem is depicted in a grand and idealized manner, with “The gemmy bridle glitter’d free” and “His coal-black curls” symbolizing his knightly perfection. For the Lady, Lancelot embodies everything she has been denied: love, adventure, and life outside her tower. Her choice to look directly at him and leave her web reflects her yearning for human connection and experience. However, the consequences of this decision—“The curse is come upon me”—imply that the Lady’s desire for Lancelot represents not only romantic longing but also the dangers of pursuing desires that lie beyond one’s confined world.

·         How does Tennyson use nature and the environment to reflect the Lady of Shalott’s emotional and psychological state?

• Tennyson frequently uses natural imagery to mirror the Lady’s emotional and psychological journey throughout the poem. At the beginning, the natural world around her is described in peaceful terms: “Willows whiten, aspens quiver,” emphasizing the tranquility of her isolation. However, as the poem progresses, the environment begins to shift in response to her actions and emotions. When she looks at Lancelot, the weather turns ominous: “In the stormy east-wind straining, / The pale yellow woods were waning,” signaling the impending doom brought on by her defiance of the curse. Nature, in this sense, acts as an external manifestation of the Lady’s internal turmoil, with the worsening weather symbolizing the chaos and fatal consequences of her decision to confront reality.