"...And by the Moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "Tis the Fairy
The Lady of Shalott..."

"...There she weaves by Night and Day
A magic web with colours gay.
She heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot..."

"...She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott..."

from "The Lady of Shalott" by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1843)

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