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.

This is the poem’s second stanza (lines 10–18), which introduces the title character. The first half of the stanza offers a pastoral description of the island, emphasizing its natural beauty and suggesting an idealized space. The speaker indicates the profound peacefulness of the island through the sensuous language used to describe the gentle breezes that “dusk and shiver” through the landscape. There’s also a distinctly timeless quality to this image, threaded as it is by a “wave that runs for ever,” perpetually “flowing down to Camelot.” Yet unbeknownst to the reader, this idyllic image of the river already introduces one of the poem’s central tensions: the ineluctable draw away from the island of Shalott and toward the court at Camelot. Despite her seemingly romantic setting, the Lady is in fact confined within “four gray walls, and four gray towers.” Despite sounding a bit like a castle, the repetition of the word “gray” subtly suggests a prison. Furthermore, when they finally announce her name, the speaker does so with a slightly ominous phrase: “the silent isle imbowers / The Lady of Shalott.” The word imbowers (i.e., “embowers”) means both to shelter and conceal, suggesting that the island is her home and her prison all at once.

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 opening stanza of Part III (lines 73–81) marks a crucial moment in the poem: the entrance of Sir Lancelot. In Part II, the speaker described how the Lady catches glimpses of the outside world through a crystal mirror that hangs above her loom. Though all she can see are “shadows of the world” (line 48), she does observe numerous passers-by proceeding along the road that runs parallel to the river that flows toward Camelot. Many of these figures excite her interest and spur her imagination. However, it isn’t until Sir Lancelot passes by that her desire is activated. This passage contains several references to attraction, starting with the “bow-shot” that penetrates “her bower-eaves.” After this, the speaker uses suggestive light imagery to describe Lancelot. Evidently, the appearance of this famously handsome man is so radiant that when the “dazzling” sun shines through the leaves, it “sparkled” and “flamed upon” his armor. In so doing, Lancelot’s appearance also enflames the Lady’s heart. The description of his armor as “brazen” may also be read as having a sexual undertone, signaling a shamelessly bold male presence in the Lady’s feminine island bower.

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.

he final stanza of Part III (lines 109–17) represents the climax of the poem. Having been alerted to Lancelot’s presence due to the dazzling reflection of the sun off his armor, the Lady goes on to observe him and his richly ornamented horse as they take a break by the river. So stirred is the Lady by this event that she feels compelled to get up from her loom. Despite sitting there “by night and day” (line 37) for who knows how long, she rises, paces through her cramped quarters, and then does what she knows she mustn’t do: she looks toward Camelot. This act brings the mysterious curse down on her, causing her weaving spontaneously to unravel and her mirror to shatter. If the Lady risks activating her curse, she does so in a moment of attraction. We can infer as much from the juxtaposition of lines 111–112: “She saw the water-lily bloom,/She saw the helmet and the plume.” The blooming waterlily symbolizes the Lady’s awakening desire, inspired by the vision of Lancelot in his masculine regalia. It is this pair of moments that leads her to look toward Camelot, thereby activating the curse that will kill her.

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.”

The poem concludes with this stanza (lines 163–71), which cements the overarching tragedy of the entire poem. After the curse came down on the Lady, she hastily left her tower and, in the midst of a storm, proceeded to board a boat meant to convey her toward Camelot. However, as she floated down the river to the place where she’d been forbidden to look upon, she succumbed to the curse, which caused the blood to freeze in her veins. Thus, when the boat does eventually arrive at court, it’s carrying a corpse. The sudden and mysterious appearance of a beautiful, but dead young woman startles the royal revelers and causes a melancholy air to descend. Most devastating, however, is the reaction of the man who, though through no fault of his own, helped create the conditions for this tragedy. Reading the Lady of Shalott’s name, which she scrawled on the boat’s prow, Lancelot considers the dead woman for a moment before pronouncing his pitiful response—“She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.” (lines 169-171). This response fails to match the intensity of the dead woman’s love for him, thereby leaving the reader with an excruciating sense of tragic irony.

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