A dama do lago

The Lady of Shallot
By Lord Alfred Tennyson
a selection from the poem


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 at 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 her highway near

Winding down to Camelot;

There the river eddy whirls,

And there the surely village curls,

And the red cloaks of market girls,

Pass onward from 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..

And then arrives Sir Lancelot and....
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 looked down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror cracked form side to side;

"The curse is come upon me," cried

The Lady of Shallot.