“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 left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room”

“The mirror crack'd from side to side"The curse has come upon me," criedThe Lady of Shalott”

“There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors 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.”

“She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.”

“The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"And the lily whispers, "I wait.”

“But in her web she still delightsTo weave the mirror’s magic sights,For often thro’ the silent nightsA 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,” saidThe Lady of Shalott.”