Sophie-David
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
Like Elaine of Corbenic in the Five of Cups, Elaine of Astolat fell deeply in love with Lancelot, but her love was not returned for his heart belonged irrevocably to Guenevere. Such are the tragedies we weave upon the tapestry of life! The Lily Maid pines her health away, and at last is piloted downstream to appear at Camelot, a cold testimony to her undying love.
In this picture, the Maid peers listlessly over the side of the boat, her long blonde hair stretching into the water, her very substance surrendering to the downward wash of her emotions. It is a calm and beautiful scene, but her broken soul can take no joy in it. If only she could have endured this seemingly unbearable misery, her love and longing had the potential to transform her life forever, to rebirth in her lasting inward peace and spiritual maturity. But despite the wonderous beauty around her which tries to seduce her back to life, she has chosen death as her companion, a dark cowled figure who guides her to her chosen end.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.