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…