1
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 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.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey 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
The Lady of Shalott."
2
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 through 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 through 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 through 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.
3
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 armor 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, burning bright,
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 flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
4
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through 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.
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 around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer 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.
5
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened 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 around 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 crossed 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."
http://charon.sfsu.edu/tennyson/TENNLADY.HTML
6
The Lady of Shalott
Jump to: navigation, search
John William Waterhouse's The Lady of Shalott, 1888 (Tate Gallery, London)
For the Waterhouse painting, see The Lady of Shalott (painting).
"Shalott" redirects here. For other uses, see Shalott (disambiguation).
"The Lady of Shalott" is a Victorian poem or ballad by the English poet Alfred, Lord
Tennyson (1809–1892). Like his other early poems – "Sir Lancelot and Queen
Guinevere" and "Galahad" – the poem recasts Arthurian subject matter loosely based on
medieval sources.
Overview
Waterhouse's The Lady of Shalott Looking at Lancelot
7
Tennyson wrote two versions of the poem, one published in 1833, of twenty stanzas, the
other in 1842 of nineteen stanzas. It was loosely based on the Arthurian legend of Elaine
of Astolat, as recounted in a thirteenth-century Italian novella entitled Donna di Scalotta
(No, lxxxi in the collection "Cento Novelle Antiche" actually), with the earlier version
being closer to the source material than the later.[1] Tennyson focused on the Lady's
"isolation in the tower and her decision to participate in the living world, two subjects not
even mentioned in Donna di Scalotta."[2]
Synopsis
The first four stanzas describe a pastoral setting. The Lady of Shalott lives in an island
castle in a river which flows to Camelot, but little is known about her by the local
farmers.
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."
Stanzas five through eight describe the lady's life. She has been cursed, and so must
constantly weave a magic web without looking directly out at the world. Instead, she
looks into a mirror which reflects the busy road and the people of Camelot which pass by
her island.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
Stanzas nine through twelve describe "bold Sir Lancelot" as he rides past, and is seen by
the lady.
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.
The remaining seven stanzas describe the effect of seeing Lancelot on the lady; she stops
weaving and looks out her window toward Camelot, bringing about the curse.
Out flew the web and floated wideThe mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
8
She leaves her tower, finds a boat upon which she writes her name, and floats down the
river to Camelot. She dies before arriving at the palace, and among the knights and ladies
who see her is Lancelot.
"Who is this? And what is here?"
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed 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."
Themes
Some consider "The Lady of Shalott" to be representative of the dilemma that faces
artists, writers, and musicians: to create work about and celebrating the world, or to enjoy
the world by simply living in it. Others see the poem as concerned with issues of
women's sexuality and their place in the Victorian world. The fact that the poem works
through such complex and polyvalent symbolism indicates an important difference
between Tennyson's work and his Arthurian source material. While Tennyson's sources
tended to work through allegory, Tennyson himself did not.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lady_of_Shalott
9
If you are approaching Tennyson's poem, "The Lady of Shalott", the following
will help you get started. It is intended especially for students (high-school age
and older) who have read the poem in class.
The Story
The Lady of Shalott is a magical being who
lives alone on an island upstream from
King Arthur's Camelot. Her business is to
look at the world outside her castle window
in a mirror, and to weave what she sees
into a tapestry. She is forbidden by magic
to look at the outside world directly. The
farmers who live near her island hear her
singing and know who she is, but never
see her.
The Lady sees ordinary people, loving couples, and knights in pairs reflected in
her mirror. One day, she sees the reflection of Sir Lancelot riding alone. Although
she knows that it is forbidden, she looks out the window at him. The mirror
shatters, the tapestry flies off on the wind, and the Lady feels the power of her
curse.
An autumn storm suddenly arises. The lady leaves her castle, finds a boat, writes
her name on it, gets into the boat, sets it adrift, and sings her death song as she
drifts down the river to Camelot. The locals find the boat and the body, realize
who she is, and are saddened. Lancelot prays that God will have mercy on her
soul.
This is one of Tennyson's most popular poems. The Pre-Raphaelites liked to
illustrate it. Waterhouse made three separate paintings of "The Lady of Shalott".
Agatha Christie wrote a Miss Marple mystery entitled "The Mirror Crack'd From
Side to Side", which was made into a movie starring Angela Lansbury. Tirra Lirra
by the River, by Australian novelist Jessica Anderson, is the story of a modern
woman's decision to break out of confinement.
10
The Poem
The Lady Of Shalott
1842 Version
1832 Version
I
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-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
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle embowers
The Lady of Shalott.
...
...
...
...
...
The yellowleavèd waterlily,
The greensheathèd daffodilly,
Trembled in the water chilly,
Round about Shalott
Tennyson changed a copy of the 1832
version to "The yellow globe o' the
waterlily". Probably the water lilies had
green leaves and yellow flowers.
...
...
The sunbeam-showers break and quiver
In the stream that runneth ever
...
...
...
...
...
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhailed
The shallop flitteth, silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot
Yet who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she know in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Underneath the bearded barley,
The reaper, reaping late and early
Hears her ever chanting cheerly,
Like an angel, singing clearly,
O'er the stream of Camelot.
Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,
Beneath the moon, the reaper weary
Listening, whispers, "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the beared 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, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
The little isle is all inrailed
With a rose-fence, and overtrailed
With roses: by the marge unhailed
The shallop flitteth silen-sailed
Skimming down to Camelot:
A pearlgarland winds her head;
She leaneth on a velvet bed,
Fully royally apparelèd,
The Lady of Shalott.
11
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 through 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 through 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 through 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.
No time hath she to sport and play:
A charmèd web she weaves alway.
A curse is on her, if she stay
Her weaving, either night or day,
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
Therefore she weaveth steadily,
Therefore no other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
12
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 kneeled
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 armor 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 flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
...
...
...
...
As he rode down from Camelot:
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
As he rode down from Camelot:
...
...
...
Moves over green Shalott.
...
...
...
...
As he rode down from Camelot:
...
...
"Tirra lirra, tirra lirra"
...
13
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through 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.
...
...
She saw the waterflower
bloom
...
...
...
...
...
...
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 around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
...
...
...
...
...
Outside the isle a shallow boat
Beneath a willow lay afloat
Below the carven stern she wrote
...
A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight
All raimented in snowy white
That loosely flew, (her zone in sight,
Clasped with one blinding diamond bright,)
Her wide eyes fixed on Camelot
Thought the squally eastwind keenly
Blew, with folded arms serenely
By the water stood the queenly
Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer 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.
And down the river's dim expanse
With a steady, stony glance
Beholding all her own mischance
Mute, with a glassy countenance
She looked down to Camelot
It was the closing of the day,
...
...
...
14
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.
As when to sailors while they roam,
By creeks and outfalls far from home,
Rising and dropping with the foam,
From dying swans wild warblings come,
Blown shoreward; so to Camelot
Still as the boat--head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her chanting her deathsong
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened 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.
A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,
She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her eyes were darkened wholly,
And her smooth face sharpened slowly.
...
...
...
...
...
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 around the prow they read her
name,
The Lady of Shalott.
...
...
A pale, pale corpse she floated by,
Deadcold between the houses high,
Dead into towered Camelot
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
To the plankèd wharfage came:
Below the stern they read her name,
...
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed 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."
They crossed themselves, their stars they blest,
Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire and guest,
There lay a parchment on her breast,
That puzzled more than all the rest,
The wellfed wits at Camelot.
"The web was woven curiously,
The charm is broken utterly,
Draw near and fear not -- this is I,
The Lady of Shalott."
15
Notes
The story of the Lady of Shalott is a version of "Elaine the fair maid of
Astolat", from Thomas Malory's Morte d'Arthur. Elaine's naive love for
Lancelot was unrequited. She died of a broken heart (i.e., committed
suicide -- Malory's book contains her justification of suicide). Her dead
body (with suicide note between her hands) was floated down the Thames
to Camelot. Eventually Tennyson wrote a long poem about "Lancelot and
Elaine". It contains the line which I have found helpful, "He makes no friend who
never made a foe."
However, Tennyson claimed he did not know the English version of the story in
1832, when he wrote the first draft of the poem. He took it from an early
renaissance Italian story "Quì conta come la Damigella di Scalot morì per amore
di Lancialotto de Lac." The body ends up on the Camelot beach, with a letter,
and is examined by a crowd.
I met the story first in some italian novelle: but the web, mirror, island, etc., were
my own. Indeed, I doubt whether I should ever have put it in that shape if I had
been then aware of the Maid of Astolat in "Morte Arthur".
Tennyson found the basic story in the Italian source,
including the death-letter (which he eliminated from
the 1842 version). But he made up the curse, the
mirror, the song, and the weaving. Tennyson also
explained,
The Lady of Shalott is evidently the Elaine of the
Morte d'Arthur, but I do not think that I had ever
heard of the latter when I wrote the former. Shalott
was a softer sound than "Scalott".
Like many other famous poems, this one deals (on one level) about writing
poetry. Tennyson's son Hallam quoted his father as saying it's about:
the new-born love for something, for some one in the wide world for which she
had been so long excluded, takes her out of the region of shadows into that of
realities.
16
Hallam also said:
The key to this tale of magic symbolism is of deep human significance and is to
be found in the lines
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
Tennyson likes to write poems about creatures lost in half-life, and/or people
taking decisive, heroic action that leads to their doom.







The Kraken is a science-fiction sort of creature that will become conscious
only moments before its spectacular death.
The Lotus-Eaters are in a drug-haze.
Tithonous is lost in extreme old age.
Miriana and Oenone are poems about lonely women.
"The Charge of the Light Brigade" glorifies the men who died as a result of
a terrible military error.
"Ulysses" glorifies a heroic quest for even-Ulysses-doesn't-know-what. If
you know the story from Dante, you remember that Ulysses and all his
crew drowned.
"The Idealist" spoofs a philosopher who thinks the world is his
hallucination.
Here are some more interesting things to notice
about "The Lady of Shalott":





The key line, "I am half-sick of shadows",
says the Lady's mind, and probably the
poet's mind, is divided about the right
choice.
Each of the four stanzas ends with
somebody saying something. Otherwise
nobody says anything.
Most of the knights are riding as buddy
pairs. Lancelot is riding alone. He has no
partner except his reflection in the river. The
reflection in the river is in turn reflected in
the mirror.
The poem has been very popular among
illustrators, perhaps for its suggestiveness.
Note Lance's lance in the one picture.
"Tirra lirra" comes from "The Winter's Tale" by Shakespeare. The redcross knight is the hero of the beginning of Spenser's "Faery Queene".
17






Not everybody thinks that "Tirra lirra by the river" is a great line. But notice
that "river" rhymes with "river", either because there is no other obvious
rhyme, or because there is a reflection in the river. Mirror doesn't really
rhyme with river, but it sort of rhymes with tirra lirra. Uh, yeah, I agree that
"plankèd wharfage" sounds silly today.
Lancelot prays that God will have mercy on the Lady. At the time, Lancelot
is the queen's illicit lover, and thus false to the king he loves. Eventually a
contrite Lancelot became a man of God. Lancelot is the one who will
receive mercy. Lancelot's prayer that God will have mercy on the lady
probably comes from the old version in which she is an actual suicide.
You've probably already thought about how the Lady's castle and mirror
compares with Plato's Cave. In Plato, the reflections are the phenomenal
world; in Tennyson, the phenomenal world casts the reflections. Leaving
both cave and castle supposedly results in disaster.
How can you read something that was written "below the stern" of a boat?
It would be below the water line. One early reviewer pointed this out.
John Stuart Mill understandably disliked the last stanza of the 1832
version in the London Reveiw, July 1835.
If you are allowed to do "Compare and Contrast" papers (i.e., if you are
only beginning your study of literature), get Tennyson's "Life of the Life", a
companion-piece to "The Lady of Shalott".
 Funeral barges and dead bodies going down rivers are
some sort of archetype. Ophelia, Buoconte di Montefeltro
(Dante Purg. V), and Boromir ("Lord of the Rings") are three
other favorites from classic literature.
 Because the Lady of Shalott is an allegorical figure, she
has no given name.
 One of my correspondents (Catherine Mulligan) pointed out
that at the start, there's no color, only shadows. Later, the
lady chooses "the bright colors of reality". When she dies,
we hear only of white, one of the hueless "colors" of death.
What's It All About, Alfie?
Obviously the Lady looking at the world in a mirror and depicting it
in a work of art is some kind of allegory for the life of the artistwriter. I think that "The Lady of Shalott" is partly about how being
an artist (writer, poet, scholar, etc.) can make you feel isolated from
ordinary life. You can develop this idea yourself, based on your own
experience and observations.
It's the Lady's romantic yearnings that finally make her look out the
window. In the 1830's, a poet was supposed to be a spokesman for a
"Victorian" ideal in which sexuality is suppressed. Tennyson wrote "The
Lady of Shalott" in his early 20's, just after being forced to leave
Cambridge for financial reasons. He would not marry until 1849. The
18
young Tennyson must have wondered whether he could hold to the
supposed contemporary standard for a single man rather than seeking out
sexual relationships. He must have been afraid that choosing the latter
would ruin his morals and his writing.
You can look at Tennyson's own life and letters and decide for yourself to
what extent "The Lady of Shalott" reflects the hopes and fears of a young
man who grew up bookish, super-smart, isolated, and probably repressed.
You can also look at what others have said about the old question of
whether an artist or writer must be isolated from the ordinary world.
Shakespeare and Chaucer were men of the world, who probably did not
consider their writing to be their main professions. Lord Byron and Robert
Burns embraced life and sexuality wholeheartedly. By contrast, Keats
dropped out of medical school to become a full-time poet, Coleridge was a
passive man who became dependent on the good will of others to be able
to continue his work, and Emily Dickinson was a recluse. Bertoldt Brecht
pretended to be a man of the working class, but he really had nothing to
do with the people for whom he claimed to speak. You can supply many
more examples.
Today, "The Lady of Shalott" invites us to think about:
o
o
What sacrifices must a person make to be a poet, artist,
scientist, or scholar? We all have emotional needs. Can we
really make these sacrifices? What happens when we fail?
Each of us lives partly in a world of make-believe, much of it
inherited from our families and our cultures. What happens
when it is challenged and/or we
choose to discard it?
Archaic words:
On an Ambling Pad: One resource says,
"Taking a casual walk"; I think that since
William Collins refers in his poem "In the
Downhill of Life" to wanting "an ambling pad
pony to pace o'er the lawn", and since a
character in Henry Fielding's "Journey from This World to the Next" rides
home on an ambling pad, it's probably "riding a horse." My dictionary says
that "pad" can be British dialect for a walking path, or a saddle pad, or
simply to walk in a leisurely way ("amble" is a synonym), or a horse that
walks at an easy pace.
Baldric: Belt worn over one shoulder and the opposite waist
19
Mischance: Bad luck (i.e., Tennyson's psychic foresees his own disaster)
Greaves: Armor for the fronts of the shins
Wold: Unforested plains, especially between forests.
The Culture War:
If you or your teacher are active in the perennial three-way struggle for control of the
school curriculum and everything else, you can write an essay on "The Lady of Shalott"
without being untruthful.
Partisans of the Religious Right can point out the dangers of the occult, how the Lady
was disobedient to some higher authority by seeking out sexual experience, how a good
person stays aloof from the world, etc., etc.
Partisans of the politically-correct Left can talk about how chivalry supposedly idealized
women in order to confine and oppress them.
Partisans of scientific naturalism can discuss Tennyson as the great poet of Darwin's era,
giving brilliant expression in his later works all the religious doubts of the by-then postChristian world. Even in this early poem, the Lady gives up a world of unreality to look at
and finally experience the world as it really is.
Not everybody will agree with all these positions.
http://www.pathguy.com/shalott.htm