She runs to the river down below Towards a boat under a willow Away from the mirror, the loom and the tower Where she yearned for him, hour after hour
Under a sky like a dark blue dome Stands the queen of loneliness A skin as white as the rivers foam Which tips the hem of her dress
A crown of a pearl garland she wore Blinking to Camelot in moonlight To which she stares, through tears Tears that are clouding her sight
A forlorn goddess Seeking for her God Carving in the stern The lady Shallot
Like a prophet seeing the entire future She looses the chain While death stretches its hand and lures Seizing her to gain
Paralysed and in distress, she floats Into the night by darkness clothe When the lady sings a mournful song Chanting through the spheres of night Where it dissolves at the horizon Like her life Undone...