Lady of Shalott Imagery

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-towered 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-veiled, 

Slide the heavy barges trailed 

By slow horses; and unhailed 

The shallop flitteth silken-sailed 

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 towered Camelot:               
And by the moon the reaper weary,              
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,              
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy               
 Lady of Shalott."