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    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

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