excerpt from The Lady of Shalott by Alfred Lord Tennyson and painting by John William Waterhouse

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in its 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 and round 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.

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.

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