Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
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;
- Whatever "magic sights" she sees in the mirror, the Lady weaves into her web.
- The speaker gives us a couple more examples of those magic sights: a funeral on a quiet night, full of light and music, or two newlyweds walking alone in the moonlight.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
- Still, magic mirror or not, we get the sense that this is a pretty crummy deal for the Lady. She has some entertainment, but no real connection to the world. As she puts it: "I am half sick of shadows."
- She's fed up with this life, and we can feel that something may be about to change.