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An Arthurian Miscellany at sacred-texts.com

FOR ALL LADIES OF SHALOTT

by

ALINE KILMER



The web flew out and floated wide.
Poor lady! I was with her then.
She gathered up her piteous pride,
But she could never weave again.

The mirror cracked from side to side;
I saw its silver shadows go.
"The curse has come on me!" she cried.
Poor lady! I had told her so.

She was so proud: she would not hide.
She only laughed and tried to sing.
But singing, in her song she died.
She did not profit anything.

Next: A Legend of Tintagel Castle, by Letitia Elizabeth Landon [1833]