Asleep or waking is it for her neck
Kissed over close wears yet a purple speck
Wherein the pained blood falters and goes out
Soft and stung softly fairer for a fleck
But though my lips shut sucking on the place
There is no vein at work upon her face
Her eyelids are so peaceable no doubt
Deep sleep has warmed her blood through all its ways
Lo this is she that was the world delight
The old grey years were parcels of her might
The strewings of the ways wherein she trod
Were the twain seasons of the day and night
Lo she was thus when her clear limbs enticed
All lips that now grow sad with kissing Christ
Stained with blood fallen from the feet of God
The feet and hands whereat our souls were priced
Alas Lord surely thou art great and fair
But lo her wonderfully woven hair
And thou didst heal us with thy piteous kiss
But see now Lord her mouth is lovelier
She is right fair what hath she done to thee
Nay fair Lord Christ lift up thine eyes and see
Had now thy mother such a lip like this
Thou knowest how sweet a thing it is to me
Inside the Horsel here the air is hot
Right little peace one hath for it God wot
The scented dusty daylight burns the air
And my heart chokes me till I hear it not
Behold my Venus my soul body lies
With my love laid upon her garment-wise
Feeling my love in all her limbs and hair
And shed between her eyelids through her eyes
She holds my heart in her sweet open hands
Hanging asleep hard by her head there stands
Crowned with gilt thorns and clothed with flesh like fire
Love wan as foam blown up the salt burnt sands 
Hot as the brackish waifs of yellow spume
That shift and steam loose clots of arid fume
From the sea panting mouth of dry desire
There stands he like one labouring at a loom
The warp holds fast across and every thread
That makes the woof up has dry specks of red
Always the shuttle cleaves clean through and he
Weaves with the hair of many a ruined head
Love is not glad nor sorry as I deem
Labouring he dreams and labours in the dream
Till when the spool is finished lo I see
His web reeled off curls and goes out like steam
Night falls like fire the heavy lights run low
And as they drop my blood and body so
Shake as the flame shakes full of days and hours
That sleep not neither weep they as they go
Ah yet would God this flesh of mine might be
Where air might wash and long leaves cover me
Where tides of grass break into foam of flowers
Or where the wind feet shine along the sea
Ah yet would God that stems and roots were bred
Out of my weary body and my head
That sleep were sealed upon me with a seal
And I were as the least of all his dead
Would God my blood were dew to feed the grass
Mine ears made deaf and mine eyes blind as glass
My body broken as a turning wheel
And my mouth stricken ere it saith Alas
Ah God that love were as a flower or flame
That life were as the naming of a name
That death were not more pitiful than desire
That these things were not one thing and the same
Behold now surely somewhere there is death
For each man hath some space of years he saith
A little space of time ere time expire
A little day a little way of breath
And lo between the sundawn and the sun
His day work and his night work are undone
And lo between the nightfall and the light
He is not and none knoweth of such an one
Ah God that I were as all souls that be
As any herb or leaf of any tree
As men that toil through hours of labouring night
As bones of men under the deep sharp sea
Outside it must be winter among men
For at the gold bars of the gates again
I heard all night and all the hours of it
The wind wet wings and fingers drip with rain
Knights gather riding sharp for cold I know
The ways and woods are strangled with the snow
And with short song the maidens spin and sit
Until Christ birthnight lily-like arow
The scent and shadow shed about me make
The very soul in all my senses ache
The hot hard night is fed upon my breath
And sleep beholds me from afar awake
Alas but surely where the hills grow deep
Or where the wild ways of the sea are steep
Or in strange places somewhere there is death
And on death face the scattered hair of sleep
There lover-like with lips and limbs that meet
They lie they pluck sweet fruit of life and eat
But me the hot and hungry days devour
And in my mouth no fruit of theirs is sweet
No fruit of theirs but fruit of my desire
For her love sake whose lips through mine respire
Her eyelids on her eyes like flower on flower
Mine eyelids on mine eyes like fire on fire
So lie we not as sleep that lies by death
With heavy kisses and with happy breath
Not as man lies by woman when the bride
Laughs low for love sake and the words he saith
For she lies laughing low with love she lies
And turns his kisses on her lips to sighs
To sighing sound of lips unsatisfied
And the sweet tears are tender with her eyes
Ah not as they but as the souls that were
Slain in the old time having found her fair
Who sleeping with her lips upon their eyes
Heard sudden serpents hiss across her hair
Their blood runs round the roots of time like rain
She casts them forth and gathers them again
With nerve and bone she weaves and multiplies
Exceeding pleasure out of extreme pain
Her little chambers drip with flower-like red
Her girdles and the chaplets of her head
Her armlets and her anklets with her feet
She tramples all that winepress of the dead
Her gateways smoke with fume of flowers and fires
With loves burnt out and unassuaged desires
Between her lips the steam of them is sweet
The languor in her ears of many lyres
Her beds are full of perfume and sad sound
Her doors are made with music and barred round
With sighing and with laughter and with tears
With tears whereby strong souls of men are bound
There is the knight Adonis that was slain
With flesh and blood she chains him for a chain
The body and the spirit in her ears
Cry for her lips divide him vein by vein
Yea all she slayeth yea every man save me
Me love thy lover that must cleave to thee
Till the ending of the days and ways of earth
The shaking of the sources of the sea
Me most forsaken of all souls that fell
Me satiated with things insatiable
Me for whose sake the extreme hell makes mirth
Yea laughter kindles at the heart of hell
Alas thy beauty for thy mouth sweet sake
My soul is bitter to me my limbs quake
As water as the flesh of men that weep
As their heart vein whose heart goes nigh to break
Ah God that sleep with flower-sweet finger-tips
Would crush the fruit of death upon my lips
Ah God that death would tread the grapes of sleep
And wring their juice upon me as it drips
There is no change of cheer for many days
But change of chimes high up in the air that sways
Rung by the running fingers of the wind
And singing sorrows heard on hidden ways
Day smiteth day in twain night sundereth night
And on mine eyes the dark sits as the light
Yea Lord thou knowest I know not having sinned
If heaven be clean or unclean in thy sight
Yea as if earth were sprinkled over me
Such chafed harsh earth as chokes a sandy sea
Each pore doth yearn and the dried blood thereof
Gasps by sick fits my heart swims heavily
There is a feverish famine in my veins
Below her bosom where a crushed grape stains
The white and blue there my lips caught and clove
An hour since and what mark of me remains
I dare not always touch her lest the kiss
Leave my lips charred Yea Lord a little bliss
Brief bitter bliss one hath for a great sin
Nathless thou knowest how sweet a thing it is
Sin is it sin whereby men souls are thrust
Into the pit yet had I a good trust
To save my soul before it slipped therein
Trod under by the fire-shod feet of lust
For if mine eyes fail and my soul takes breath
I look between the iron sides of death
Into sad hell where all sweet love hath end
All but the pain that never finisheth
There are the naked faces of great kings
The singing folk with all their lute-playings
There when one cometh he shall have to friend
The grave that covets and the worm that clings
There sit the knights that were so great of hand
The ladies that were queens of fair green land
Grown grey and black now brought unto the dust
Soiled without raiment clad about with sand
There is one end for all of them they sit
Naked and sad they drink the dregs of it
Trodden as grapes in the wine-press of lust
Trampled and trodden by the fiery feet
I see the marvellous mouth whereby there fell
Cities and people whom the gods loved well
Yet for her sake on them the fire gat hold
And for their sakes on her the fire of hell
And softer than the Egyptian lote-leaf is
The queen whose face was worth the world to kiss
Wearing at breast a suckling snake of gold
And large pale lips of strong Semiramis
Curled like a tiger that curl back to feed
Red only where the last kiss made them bleed
Her hair most thick with many a carven gem
Deep in the mane great-chested like a steed
Yea with red sin the faces of them shine
But in all these there was no sin like mine
No not in all the strange great sins of them
That made the wine-press froth and foam with wine
For I was of Christ choosing I God knight
No blinkard heathen stumbling for scant light
I can well see for all the dusty days
Gone past the clean great time of goodly fight
I smell the breathing battle sharp with blows
With shriek of shafts and snapping short of bows
The fair pure sword smites out in subtle ways
Sounds and long lights are shed between the rows
Of beautiful mailed men the edged light slips
Most like a snake that takes short breath and dips
Sharp from the beautifully bending head
With all its gracious body lithe as lips
That curl in touching you right in this wise
My sword doth seeming fire in mine own eyes
Leaving all colours in them brown and red
And flecked with death then the keen breaths like sighs
The caught-up choked dry laughters following them
When all the fighting face is grown a flame
For pleasure and the pulse that stuns the ears
And the heart gladness of the goodly game
Let me think yet a little I do know
These things were sweet but sweet such years ago
Their savour is all turned now into tears
Yea ten years since where the blue ripples blow
The blue curled eddies of the blowing Rhine
I felt the sharp wind shaking grass and vine
Touch my blood too and sting me with delight
Through all this waste and weary body of mine
That never feels clear air right gladly then
I rode alone a great way off my men
And heard the chiming bridle smite and smite
And gave each rhyme thereof some rhyme again
Till my song shifted to that iron one
Seeing there rode up between me and the sun
Some certain of my foe men for his three
White wolves across their painted coats did run
The first red-bearded with square cheeks alack
I made my knave blood turn his beard to black
The slaying of him was a joy to see
Perchance too when at night he came not back
Some woman fell a-weeping whom this thief
Would beat when he had drunken yet small grief
Hath any for the ridding of such knaves
Yea if one wept I doubt her teen was brief
This bitter love is sorrow in all lands
Draining of eyelids wringing of drenched hands
Sighing of hearts and filling up of graves
A sign across the head of the world he stands
An one that hath a plague-mark on his brows
Dust and spilt blood do track him to his house
Down under earth sweet smells of lip and cheek
Like a sweet snake breath made more poisonous
With chewing of some perfumed deadly grass
Are shed all round his passage if he pass
And their quenched savour leaves the whole soul weak
Sick with keen guessing whence the perfume was
As one who hidden in deep sedge and reeds
Smells the rare scent made where a panther feeds
And tracking ever slotwise the warm smell
Is snapped upon by the sweet mouth and bleeds
His head far down the hot sweet throat of her 
So one tracks love whose breath is deadlier
And lo one springe and you are fast in hell
Fast as the gin grip of a wayfarer
I think now as the heavy hours decease
One after one and bitter thoughts increase
One upon one of all sweet finished things
The breaking of the battle the long peace
Wherein we sat clothed softly each man hair
Crowned with green leaves beneath white hoods of vair
The sounds of sharp spears at great tourneyings
And noise of singing in the late sweet air
I sang of love too knowing nought thereof
Sweeter I said the little laugh of love
Than tears out of the eyes of Magdalen
Or any fallen feather of the Dove
The broken little laugh that spoils a kiss
The ache of purple pulses and the bliss
Of blinded eyelids that expand again 
Love draws them open with those lips of his
Lips that cling hard till the kissed face has grown
Of one same fire and colour with their own
Then ere one sleep appeased with sacrifice
Where his lips wounded there his lips atone
I sang these things long since and knew them not
Lo here is love or there is love God wot
This man and that finds favour in his eyes
I said but I what guerdon have I got
The dust of praise that is blown everywhere
In all men faces with the common air
The bay-leaf that wants chafing to be sweet
Before they wind it in a singer hair
So that one dawn I rode forth sorrowing
I had no hope but of some evil thing
And so rode slowly past the windy wheat
And past the vineyard and the water-spring
Up to the Horsel A great elder-tree
Held back its heaps of flowers to let me see
The ripe tall grass and one that walked therein
Naked with hair shed over to the knee
She walked between the blossom and the grass
I knew the beauty of her what she was
The beauty of her body and her sin
And in my flesh the sin of hers alas
Alas for sorrow is all the end of this
O sad kissed mouth how sorrowful it is
O breast whereat some suckling sorrow clings
Red with the bitter blossom of a kiss
Ah with blind lips I felt for you and found
About my neck your hands and hair enwound
The hands that stifle and the hair that stings
I felt them fasten sharply without sound
Yea for my sin I had great store of bliss
Rise up make answer for me let thy kiss
Seal my lips hard from speaking of my sin
Lest one go mad to hear how sweet it is
Yet I waxed faint with fume of barren bowers
And murmuring of the heavy-headed hours
And let the dove beak fret and peck within
My lips in vain and Love shed fruitless flowers
So that God looked upon me when your hands
Were hot about me yea God brake my bands
To save my soul alive and I came forth
Like a man blind and naked in strange lands
That hears men laugh and weep and knows not whence
Nor wherefore but is broken in his sense
Howbeit I met folk riding from the north
Towards Rome to purge them of their souls' offence
And rode with them and spake to none the day
Stunned me like lights upon some wizard way
And ate like fire mine eyes and mine eyesight
So rode I hearing all these chant and pray
And marvelled till before us rose and fell
White cursed hills like outer skirts of hell
Seen where men eyes look through the day to night
Like a jagged shell lips harsh untunable
Blown in between by devils' wrangling breath
Nathless we won well past that hell and death
Down to the sweet land where all airs are good
Even unto Rome where God grace tarrieth
Then came each man and worshipped at his knees
Who in the Lord God likeness bears the keys
To bind or loose and called on Christ shed blood
And so the sweet-souled father gave him ease
But when I came I fell down at his feet
Saying Father though the Lord blood be right sweet
The spot it takes not off the panther skin
Nor shall an Ethiop stain be bleached with it
Lo I have sinned and have spat out at God
Wherefore his hand is heavier and his rod
More sharp because of mine exceeding sin
And all his raiment redder than bright blood
Before mine eyes yea for my sake I wot
The heat of hell is waxen seven times hot
Through my great sin Then spake he some sweet word
Giving me cheer which thing availed me not
Yea scarce I wist if such indeed were said
For when I ceased lo as one newly dead
Who hears a great cry out of hell I heard
The crying of his voice across my head
Until this dry shred staff that hath no whit
Of leaf nor bark bear blossom and smell sweet
Seek thou not any mercy in God sight
For so long shalt thou be cast out from it
Yea what if dried-up stems wax red and green
Shall that thing be which is not nor has been
Yea what if sapless bark wax green and white
Shall any good fruit grow upon my sin
Nay though sweet fruit were plucked of a dry tree
And though men drew sweet waters of the sea
There should not grow sweet leaves on this dead stem
This waste wan body and shaken soul of me
Yea though God search it warily enough
There is not one sound thing in all thereof
Though he search all my veins through searching them
He shall find nothing whole therein but love
For I came home right heavy with small cheer
And lo my love mine own soul heart more dear
Than mine own soul more beautiful than God
Who hath my being between the hands of her 
Fair still but fair for no man saving me
As when she came out of the naked sea
Making the foam as fire whereon she trod
And as the inner flower of fire was she
Yea she laid hold upon me and her mouth
Clove unto mine as soul to body doth
And laughing made her lips luxurious
Her hair had smells of all the sunburnt south
And perfume the swart kings tread underfoot
For pleasure when their minds wax amorous
Charred frankincense and grated sandal-root
And I forgot fear and all weary things
All ended prayers and perished thanksgivings
Feeling her face with all her eager hair
Cleave to me clinging as a fire that clings
To the body and to the raiment burning them
As after death I know that such-like flame
Shall cleave to me for ever yea what care
Albeit I burn then having felt the same
Ah love there is no better life than this
To have known love how bitter a thing it is
And afterward be cast out of God sight
Yea these that know not shall they have such bliss
High up in barren heaven before his face
As we twain in the heavy-hearted place
Remembering love and all the dead delight
And all that time was sweet with for a space
For till the thunder in the trumpet be
Soul may divide from body but not we
One from another I hold thee with my hand
I let mine eyes have all their will of thee
I seal myself upon thee with my might
Abiding alway out of all men sight
Until God loosen over sea and land
The thunder of the trumpets of the night
Nay but this god hath cause enow to smite
If he will slay me baring breast and throat
I lean toward the stroke with silent mouth
And a great heart Come take thy sword and slay
Let me not starve between desire and death
But send me on my way with glad wet lips
For in the vein-drawn ashen-coloured palm
Death hollow hand holds water of sweet draught
To dip and slake dried mouths at as a deer
Specked red from thorns laps deep and loses pain
Yea if mine own blood ran upon my mouth
I would drink that Nay but be swift with me
Set thy sword here between the girdle and breast
For I shall grow a poison if I live
Are not my cheeks as grass my body pale
And my breath like a dying poisoned man's
O whatsoever of godlike names thou be
By thy chief name I charge thee thou strong god
And bid thee slay me Strike up to the gold
Up to the hand-grip of the hilt strike here
For I am Cretan of my birth strike now
For I am Theseus' wife stab up to the rims
I am born daughter to Pasiphae
See thou spare not for greatness of my blood
Nor for the shining letters of my name
Make thy sword sure inside thine hand and smite
For the bright writing of my name is black
And I am sick with hating the sweet sun
Man what have I to do with shame or thee
I am not of one counsel with the gods
I am their kin I have strange blood in me
I am not of their likeness nor of thine
My veins are mixed and therefore am I mad
Yea therefore chafe and turn on mine own flesh
Half of a woman made with half a god
But thou wast hewn out of an iron womb
And fed with molten mother-snow for milk
A sword was nurse of thine Hippolyta
That had the spear to father and the axe
To bridesman and wet blood of sword-slain men
For wedding-water out of a noble well
Even she did bear thee thinking of a sword
And thou wast made a man mistakingly
Nay for I love thee I will have thy hands
Nay for I will not loose thee thou art sweet
Thou art my son I am thy father wife
I ache toward thee with a bridal blood
The pulse is heavy in all my married veins
My whole face beats I will feed full of thee
My body is empty of ease I will be fed
I am burnt to the bone with love thou shalt not go
I am heartsick and mine eyelids prick mine eyes
Thou shalt not sleep nor eat nor say a word
Till thou hast slain me I am not good to live
I pray thee turn that hate of thine my way
I hate not it nor anything of thine
Lo maidens how he burns about the brow
And draws the chafing sword-strap down his hand
What wilt thou do wilt thou be worse than death
Be but as sweet as is the bitterest
The most dispiteous out of all the gods
I am well pleased Lo do I crave so much
I do but bid thee be unmerciful
Even the one thing thou art Pity me not
Thou wert not quick to pity Think of me
As of a thing thy hounds are keen upon
In the wet woods between the windy ways
And slay me for a spoil This body of mine
Is worth a wild beast fell or hide of hair
And spotted deeper than a panther grain
I were but dead if thou wert pure indeed
I pray thee by thy cold green holy crown
And by the fillet-leaves of Artemis
Nay but thou wilt not Death is not like thee
Albeit men hold him worst of all the gods
For of all gods Death only loves not gifts
Nor with burnt-offering nor blood-sacrifice
Shalt thou do aught to get thee grace of him
He will have nought of altar and altar-song
And from him only of all the lords in heaven
Persuasion turns a sweet averted mouth
But thou art worse from thee with baffled breath
Back on my lips my prayer falls like a blow
And beats upon them dumb What shall I say
There is no word I can compel thee with
To do me good and slay me But take heed
I say be wary look between thy feet
Lest a snare take them though the ground be good
O women O sweet people of this land
O goodly city and pleasant ways thereof
And woods with pasturing grass and great well-heads
And hills with light and night between your leaves
And winds with sound and silence in your lips
And earth and water and all immortal things
I take you to my witness what I am
There is a god about me like as fire
Sprung whence who knoweth or who hath heart to say
A god more strong than whom slain beasts can soothe
Or honey or any spilth of blood-like wine
Nor shall one please him with a whitened brow
Nor wheat nor wool nor aught of plaited leaf
For like my mother am I stung and slain
And round my cheeks have such red malady
And on my lips such fire and foam as hers
This is that Ate out of Amathus
That breeds up death and gives it one for love
She hath slain mercy and for dead mercy sake
Being frighted with this sister that was slain
Flees from before her fearful-footed shame
And will not bear the bending of her brows
And long soft arrows flown from under them
As from bows bent Desire flows out of her
As out of lips doth speech and over her
Shines fire and round her and beneath her fire
She hath sown pain and plague in all our house
Love loathed of love and mates unmatchable
Wild wedlock and the lusts that bleat or low
And marriage-fodder snuffed about of kine
Lo how the heifer runs with leaping flank
Sleek under shaggy and speckled lies of hair
And chews a horrible lip and with harsh tongue
Laps alien froth and licks a loathlier mouth
Alas a foul first steam of trodden tares
And fouler of these late grapes underfoot
A bitter way of waves and clean-cut foam
Over the sad road of sonorous sea
The high gods gave king Theseus for no love
Nay but for love yet to no loving end
Alas the long thwarts and the fervent oars
And blown hard sails that straightened the scant rope
There were no strong pools in the hollow sea
To drag at them and suck down side and beak
No wind to catch them in the teeth and hair
No shoal no shallow among the roaring reefs
No gulf whereout the straining tides throw spars
No surf where white bones twist like whirled white fire
But like to death he came with death and sought
And slew and spoiled and gat him that he would
For death for marriage and for child-getting
I set my curse against him as a sword
Yea and the severed half thereof I leave
Pittheus because he slew not when that face
Was tender and the life still soft in it
The small swathed child but bred him for my fate
I would I had been the first that took her death
Out from between wet hoofs and reddened teeth
Splashed horns fierce fetlocks of the brother bull
For now shall I take death a deadlier way
Gathering it up between the feet of love
Or off the knees of murder reaching it
y life is bitter with thy love thine eyes
Blind me thy tresses burn me thy sharp sighs
Divide my flesh and spirit with soft sound
And my blood strengthens and my veins abound
I pray thee sigh not speak not draw not breath
Let life burn down and dream it is not death
I would the sea had hidden us the fire
Wilt thou fear that and fear not my desire
Severed the bones that bleach the flesh that cleaves
And let our sifted ashes drop like leaves
I feel thy blood against my blood my pain
Pains thee and lips bruise lips and vein stings vein
Let fruit be crushed on fruit let flower on flower
Breast kindle breast and either burn one hour
Why wilt thou follow lesser loves are thine
Too weak to bear these hands and lips of mine
I charge thee for my life sake O too sweet
To crush love with thy cruel faultless feet
I charge thee keep thy lips from hers or his
Sweetest till theirs be sweeter than my kiss
Lest I too lure a swallow for a dove
Erotion or Erinna to my love
I would my love could kill thee I am satiated
With seeing thee live and fain would have thee dead
I would earth had thy body as fruit to eat
And no mouth but some serpent found thee sweet
I would find grievous ways to have thee slain
Intense device and superflux of pain
Vex thee with amorous agonies and shake
Life at thy lips and leave it there to ache
Strain out thy soul with pangs too soft to kill
Intolerable interludes and infinite ill
Relapse and reluctation of the breath
Dumb tunes and shuddering semitones of death
I am weary of all thy words and soft strange ways
Of all love fiery nights and all his days
And all the broken kisses salt as brine
That shuddering lips make moist with waterish wine
And eyes the bluer for all those hidden hours
That pleasure fills with tears and feeds from flowers
Fierce at the heart with fire that half comes through
But all the flowerlike white stained round with blue
The fervent underlid and that above
Lifted with laughter or abashed with love
Thine amorous girdle full of thee and fair
And leavings of the lilies in thine hair
Yea all sweet words of thine and all thy ways
And all the fruit of nights and flower of days
And stinging lips wherein the hot sweet brine
That Love was born of burns and foams like wine
And eyes insatiable of amorous hours
Fervent as fire and delicate as flowers
Coloured like night at heart but cloven through
Like night with flame dyed round like night with blue
Clothed with deep eyelids under and above 
Yea all thy beauty sickens me with love
Thy girdle empty of thee and now not fair
And ruinous lilies in thy languid hair
Ah take no thought for Love sake shall this be
And she who loves thy lover not love thee
Sweet soul sweet mouth of all that laughs and lives
Mine is she very mine and she forgives
For I beheld in sleep the light that is
In her high place in Paphos heard the kiss
Of body and soul that mix with eager tears
And laughter stinging through the eyes and ears
Saw Love as burning flame from crown to feet
Imperishable upon her storied seat
Clear eyelids lifted toward the north and south
A mind of many colours and a mouth
Of many tunes and kisses and she bowed
With all her subtle face laughing aloud
Bowed down upon me saying Who doth thee wrong
Sappho but thou thy body is the song
Thy mouth the music thou art more than I
Though my voice die not till the whole world die
Though men that hear it madden though love weep
Though nature change though shame be charmed to sleep
Ah wilt thou slay me lest I kiss thee dead
Yet the queen laughed from her sweet heart and said
Even she that flies shall follow for thy sake
And she shall give thee gifts that would not take
Shall kiss that would not kiss thee yea kiss me
When thou wouldst not when I would not kiss thee
Ah more to me than all men as thou art
Shall not my songs assuage her at the heart
Ah sweet to me as life seems sweet to death
Why should her wrath fill thee with fearful breath
Nay sweet for is she God alone hath she
Made earth and all the centuries of the sea
Taught the sun ways to travel woven most fine
The moonbeams shed the starbeams forth as wine
Bound with her myrtles beaten with her rods
The young men and the maidens and the gods
Have we not lips to love with eyes for tears
And summer and flower of women and of years
Stars for the foot of morning and for noon
Sunlight and exaltation of the moon
Waters that answer waters fields that wear
Lilies and languor of the Lesbian air
Beyond those flying feet of fluttered doves
Are there not other gods for other loves
Yea though she scourge thee sweetest for my sake
Blossom not thorns and flowers not blood should break
Ah that my lips were tuneless lips but pressed
To the bruised blossom of thy scourged white breast
Ah that my mouth for Muses' milk were fed
On the sweet blood thy sweet small wounds had bled
That with my tongue I felt them and could taste
The faint flakes from thy bosom to the waist
That I could drink thy veins as wine and eat
Thy breasts like honey that from face to feet
Thy body were abolished and consumed
And in my flesh thy very flesh entombed
Ah ah thy beauty like a beast it bites
Stings like an adder like an arrow smites
Ah sweet and sweet again and seven times sweet
The paces and the pauses of thy feet
Ah sweeter than all sleep or summer air
The fallen fillets fragrant from thine hair
Yea though their alien kisses do me wrong
Sweeter thy lips than mine with all their song
Thy shoulders whiter than a fleece of white
And flower-sweet fingers good to bruise or bite
As honeycomb of the inmost honey-cells
With almond-shaped and roseleaf-coloured shells
And blood like purple blossom at the tips
Quivering and pain made perfect in thy lips
For my sake when I hurt thee O that I
Durst crush thee out of life with love and die
Die of thy pain and my delight and be
Mixed with thy blood and molten into thee
Would I not plague thee dying overmuch
Would I not hurt thee perfectly not touch
Thy pores of sense with torture and make bright
Thine eyes with bloodlike tears and grievous light
Strike pang from pang as note is struck from note
Catch the sob middle music in thy throat
Take thy limbs living and new-mould with these
A lyre of many faultless agonies
Feed thee with fever and famine and fine drouth
With perfect pangs convulse thy perfect mouth
Make thy life shudder in thee and burn afresh
And wring thy very spirit through the flesh
Cruel but love makes all that love him well
As wise as heaven and crueller than hell
Me hath love made more bitter toward thee
Than death toward man but were I made as he
Who hath made all things to break them one by one
If my feet trod upon the stars and sun
And souls of men as his have alway trod
God knows I might be crueller than God
For who shall change with prayers or thanksgivings
The mystery of the cruelty of things
Or say what God above all gods and years
With offering and blood-sacrifice of tears
With lamentation from strange lands from graves
Where the snake pastures from scarred mouths of slaves
From prison and from plunging prows of ships
Through flamelike foam of the sea closing lips 
With thwartings of strange signs and wind-blown hair
Of comets desolating the dim air
When darkness is made fast with seals and bars
And fierce reluctance of disastrous stars
Eclipse and sound of shaken hills and wings
Darkening and blind inexpiable things 
With sorrow of labouring moons and altering light
And travail of the planets of the night
And weeping of the weary Pleiads seven
Feeds the mute melancholy lust of heaven
Is not his incense bitterness his meat
Murder his hidden face and iron feet
Hath not man known and felt them on their way
Threaten and trample all things and every day
Hath he not sent us hunger who hath cursed
Spirit and flesh with longing filled with thirst
Their lips who cried unto him who bade exceed
The fervid will fall short the feeble deed
Bade sink the spirit and the flesh aspire
Pain animate the dust of dead desire
And life yield up her flower to violent fate
Him would I reach him smite him desecrate
Pierce the cold lips of God with human breath
And mix his immortality with death
Why hath he made us what had all we done
That we should live and loathe the sterile sun
And with the moon wax paler as she wanes
And pulse by pulse feel time grow through our veins
Thee too the years shall cover thou shalt be
As the rose born of one same blood with thee
As a song sung as a word said and fall
Flower-wise and be not any more at all
Nor any memory of thee anywhere
For never Muse has bound above thine hair
The high Pierian flower whose graft outgrows
All summer kinship of the mortal rose
And colour of deciduous days nor shed
Reflex and flush of heaven about thine head
Nor reddened brows made pale by floral grief
With splendid shadow from that lordlier leaf
Yea thou shalt be forgotten like spilt wine
Except these kisses of my lips on thine
Brand them with immortality but me 
Men shall not see bright fire nor hear the sea
Nor mix their hearts with music nor behold
Cast forth of heaven with feet of awful gold
And plumeless wings that make the bright air blind
Lightning with thunder for a hound behind
Hunting through fields unfurrowed and unsown
But in the light and laughter in the moan
And music and in grasp of lip and hand
And shudder of water that makes felt on land
The immeasurable tremor of all the sea
Memories shall mix and metaphors of me
Like me shall be the shuddering calm of night
When all the winds of the world for pure delight
Close lips that quiver and fold up wings that ache
When nightingales are louder for love sake
And leaves tremble like lute-strings or like fire
Like me the one star swooning with desire
Even at the cold lips of the sleepless moon
As I at thine like me the waste white noon
Burnt through with barren sunlight and like me
The land-stream and the tide-stream in the sea
I am sick with time as these with ebb and flow
And by the yearning in my veins I know
The yearning sound of waters and mine eyes
Burn as that beamless fire which fills the skies
With troubled stars and travailing things of flame
And in my heart the grief consuming them
Labours and in my veins the thirst of these
And all the summer travail of the trees
And all the winter sickness and the earth
Filled full with deadly works of death and birth
Sore spent with hungry lusts of birth and death
Has pain like mine in her divided breath
Her spring of leaves is barren and her fruit
Ashes her boughs are burdened and her root
Fibrous and gnarled with poison underneath
Serpents have gnawn it through with tortuous teeth
Made sharp upon the bones of all the dead
And wild birds rend her branches overhead
These woven as raiment for his word and thought
These hath God made and me as these and wrought
Song and hath lit it at my lips and me
Earth shall not gather though she feed on thee
As a shed tear shalt thou be shed but I 
Lo earth may labour men live long and die
Years change and stars and the high God devise
New things and old things wane before his eyes
Who wields and wrecks them being more strong than they 
But having made me me he shall not slay
Nor slay nor satiate like those herds of his
Who laugh and live a little and their kiss
Contents them and their loves are swift and sweet
And sure death grasps and gains them with slow feet
Love they or hate they strive or bow their knees 
And all these end he hath his will of these
Yea but albeit he slay me hating me 
Albeit he hide me in the deep dear sea
And cover me with cool wan foam and ease
This soul of mine as any soul of these
And give me water and great sweet waves and make
The very sea name lordlier for my sake
The whole sea sweeter albeit I die indeed
And hide myself and sleep and no man heed
Of me the high God hath not all his will
Blossom of branches and on each high hill
Clear air and wind and under in clamorous vales
Fierce noises of the fiery nightingales
Buds burning in the sudden spring like fire
The wan washed sand and the waves' vain desire
Sails seen like blown white flowers at sea and words
That bring tears swiftest and long notes of birds
Violently singing till the whole world sings 
I Sappho shall be one with all these things
With all high things for ever and my face
Seen once my songs once heard in a strange place
Cleave to men lives and waste the days thereof
With gladness and much sadness and long love
Yea they shall say earth womb has borne in vain
New things and never this best thing again
Borne days and men borne fruits and wars and wine
Seasons and songs but no song more like mine
And they shall know me as ye who have known me here
Last year when I loved Atthis and this year
When I love thee and they shall praise me and say
She hath all time as all we have our day
Shall she not live and have her will even I
Yea though thou diest I say I shall not die
For these shall give me of their souls shall give
Life and the days and loves wherewith I live
Shall quicken me with loving fill with breath
Save me and serve me strive for me with death
Alas that neither moon nor snow nor dew
Nor all cold things can purge me wholly through
Assuage me nor allay me nor appease
Till supreme sleep shall bring me bloodless ease
Till time wax faint in all his periods
Till fate undo the bondage of the gods
And lay to slake and satiate me all through
Lotus and Lethe on my lips like dew
And shed around and over and under me
Thick darkness and the insuperable sea
The burden of fair women Vain delight
And love self-slain in some sweet shameful way
And sorrowful old age that comes by night
As a thief comes that has no heart by day
And change that finds fair cheeks and leaves them grey
And weariness that keeps awake for hire
And grief that says what pleasure used to say
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of bought kisses This is sore
A burden without fruit in childbearing
Between the nightfall and the dawn threescore
Threescore between the dawn and evening
The shuddering in thy lips the shuddering
In thy sad eyelids tremulous like fire
Makes love seem shameful and a wretched thing
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of sweet speeches Nay kneel down
Cover thy head and weep for verily
These market-men that buy thy white and brown
In the last days shall take no thought for thee
In the last days like earth thy face shall be
Yea like sea-marsh made thick with brine and mire
Sad with sick leavings of the sterile sea
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of long living Thou shalt fear
Waking and sleeping mourn upon thy bed
And say at night Would God the day were here
And say at dawn Would God the day were dead
With weary days thou shalt be clothed and fed
And wear remorse of heart for thine attire
Pain for thy girdle and sorrow upon thine head
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of bright colours Thou shalt see
Gold tarnished and the grey above the green
And as the thing thou seest thy face shall be
And no more as the thing beforetime seen
And thou shalt say of mercy It hath been
And living watch the old lips and loves expire
And talking tears shall take thy breath between
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of sad sayings In that day
Thou shalt tell all thy days and hours and tell
Thy times and ways and words of love and say
How one was dear and one desirable
And sweet was life to hear and sweet to smell
But now with lights reverse the old hours retire
And the last hour is shod with fire from hell
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of four seasons Rain in spring
White rain and wind among the tender trees
A summer of green sorrows gathering
Rank autumn in a mist of miseries
With sad face set towards the year that sees
The charred ash drop out of the dropping pyre
And winter wan with many maladies
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of dead faces Out of sight
And out of love beyond the reach of hands
Changed in the changing of the dark and light
They walk and weep about the barren lands
Where no seed is nor any garner stands
Where in short breaths the doubtful days respire
And time turned glass lets through the sighing sands
This is the end of every man desire
The burden of much gladness Life and lust
Forsake thee and the face of thy delight
And underfoot the heavy hour strews dust
And overhead strange weathers burn and bite
And where the red was lo the bloodless white
And where truth was the likeness of a liar
And where day was the likeness of the night
This is the end of every man desire
Sweet for a little even to fear and sweet
O love to lay down fear at love fair feet
Shall not some fiery memory of his breath
Lie sweet on lips that touch the lips of death
Yet leave me not yet if thou wilt be free
Love me no more but love my love of thee
Love where thou wilt and live thy life and I
One thing I can and one love cannot die
Pass from me yet thine arms thine eyes thine hair
Feed my desire and deaden my despair
Yet once more ere time change us ere my cheek
Whiten ere hope be dumb or sorrow speak
Yet once more ere thou hate me one full kiss
Keep other hours for others save me this
Yea and I will not if it please thee weep
Lest thou be sad I will but sigh and sleep
Sweet does death hurt thou canst not do me wrong
I shall not lack thee as I loved thee long
Hast thou not given me above all that live
Joy and a little sorrow shalt not give
What even though fairer fingers of strange girls
Pass nestling through thy beautiful boy curls
As mine did or those curled lithe lips of thine
Meet theirs as these all theirs come after mine
And though I were not though I be not best
I have loved and love thee more than all the rest
O love O lover loose or hold me fast
I had thee first whoever have thee last
Fairer or not what need I know what care
To thy fair bud my blossom once seemed fair
Why am I fair at all before thee why
At all desired seeing thou art fair not I
I shall be glad of thee O fairest head
Alive alone without thee with thee dead
I shall remember while the light lives yet
And in the night-time I shall not forget
Though as thou wilt thou leave me ere life leave
I will not for thy love I will not grieve
Not as they use who love not more than I
Who love not as I love thee though I die
And though thy lips once mine be oftener prest
To many another brow and balmier breast
And sweeter arms or sweeter to thy mind
Lull thee or lure more fond thou wilt not find
Men of Eleusis ye that with long staves
Sit in the market-houses and speak words
Made sweet with wisdom as the rare wine is
Thickened with honey and ye sons of these
Who in the glad thick streets go up and down
For pastime or grave traffic or mere chance
And all fair women having rings of gold
On hands or hair and chiefest over these
I name you daughters of this man the king
Who dipping deep smooth pitchers of pure brass
Under the bubbled wells till each round lip
Stooped with loose gurgle of waters incoming
Found me an old sick woman lamed and lean
Beside a growth of builded olive-boughs
Whence multiplied thick song of thick-plumed throats 
Also wet tears filled up my hollow hands
By reason of my crying into them 
And pitied me for as cold water ran
And washed the pitchers full from lip to lip
So washed both eyes full the strong salt of tears
And ye put water to my mouth made sweet
With brown hill-berries so in time I spoke
And gathered my loose knees from under me
Moreover in the broad fair halls this month
Have I found space and bountiful abode
To please me I Demeter speak of this
Who am the mother and the mate of things
For as ill men by drugs or singing words
Shut the doors inward of the narrowed womb
Like a lock bolted with round iron through
Thus I shut up the body and sweet mouth
Of all soft pasture and the tender land
So that no seed can enter in by it
Though one sow thickly nor some grain get out
Past the hard clods men cleave and bite with steel
To widen the sealed lips of them for use
None of you is there in the peopled street
But knows how all the dry-drawn furrows ache
With no green spot made count of in the black
How the wind finds no comfortable grass
Nor is assuaged with bud nor breath of herbs
And in hot autumn when ye house the stacks
All fields are helpless in the sun all trees
Stand as a man stripped out of all but skin
Nevertheless ye sick have help to get
By means and stablished ordinance of God
For God is wiser than a good man is
But never shall new grass be sweet in earth
Till I get righted of my wound and wrong
By changing counsel of ill-minded Zeus
For of all other gods is none save me
Clothed with like power to build and break the year
I make the lesser green begin when spring
Touches not earth but with one fearful foot
And as a careful gilder with grave art
Soberly colours and completes the face
Mouth chin and all of some sweet work in stone
I carve the shapes of grass and tender corn
And colour the ripe edges and long spikes
With the red increase and the grace of gold
No tradesman in soft wools is cunninger
To kill the secret of the fat white fleece
With stains of blue and purple wrought in it
Three moons were made and three moons burnt away
While I held journey hither out of Crete
Comfortless tended by grave Hecate
Whom my wound stung with double iron point
For all my face was like a cloth wrung out
With close and weeping wrinkles and both lids
Sodden with salt continuance of tears
For Hades and the sidelong will of Zeus
And that lame wisdom that has writhen feet
Cunning begotten in the bed of Shame
These three took evil will at me and made
Such counsel that when time got wing to fly
This Hades out of summer and low fields
Forced the bright body of Persephone
Out of pure grass where she lying down red flowers
Made their sharp little shadows on her sides
Pale heat pale colour on pale maiden flesh 
And chill water slid over her reddening feet
Killing the throbs in their soft blood and birds
Perched next her elbow and pecking at her hair
Stretched their necks more to see her than even to sing
A sharp thing is it I have need to say
For Hades holding both white wrists of hers
Unloosed the girdle and with knot by knot
Bound her between his wheels upon the seat
Bound her pure body holiest yet and dear
To me and God as always clothed about
With blossoms loosened as her knees went down
Let fall as she let go of this and this
By tens and twenties tumbled to her feet
White waifs or purple of the pasturage
Therefore with only going up and down
My feet were wasted and the gracious air
To me discomfortable and dun became
As weak smoke blowing in the under world
And finding in the process of ill days
What part had Zeus herein and how as mate
He coped with Hades yokefellow in sin
I set my lips against the meat of gods
And drank not neither ate or slept in heaven
Nor in the golden greeting of their mouths
Did ear take note of me nor eye at all
Track my feet going in the ways of them
Like a great fire on some strait slip of land
Between two washing inlets of wet sea
That burns the grass up to each lip of beach
And strengthens waxing in the growth of wind
So burnt my soul in me at heaven and earth
Each way a ruin and a hungry plague
Visible evil nor could any night
Put cool between mine eyelids nor the sun
With competence of gold fill out my want
Yea so my flame burnt up the grass and stones
Shone to the salt-white edges of thin sea
Distempered all the gracious work and made
Sick change unseasonable increase of days
And scant avail of seasons for by this
The fair gods faint in hollow heaven there comes
No taste of burnings of the twofold fat
To leave their palates smooth nor in their lips
Soft rings of smoke and weak scent wandering
All cattle waste and rot and their ill smell
Grows alway from the lank unsavoury flesh
That no man slays for offering the sea
And waters moved beneath the heath and corn
Preserve the people of fin-twinkling fish
And river-flies feed thick upon the smooth
But all earth over is no man or bird
Except the sweet race of the kingfisher
That lacks not and is wearied with much loss
Meantime the purple inward of the house
Was softened with all grace of scent and sound
In ear and nostril perfecting my praise
Faint grape-flowers and cloven honey-cake
And the just grain with dues of the shed salt
Made me content yet my hand loosened not
Its gripe upon your harvest all year long
While I thus woman-muffled in wan flesh
And waste externals of a perished face
Preserved the levels of my wrath and love
Patiently ruled and with soft offices
Cooled the sharp noons and busied the warm nights
In care of this my choice this child my choice
Triptolemus the king selected son
That this fair yearlong body which hath grown
Strong with strange milk upon the mortal lip
And nerved with half a god might so increase
Outside the bulk and the bare scope of man
And waxen over large to hold within
Base breath of yours and this impoverished air
I might exalt him past the flame of stars
The limit and walled reach of the great world
Therefore my breast made common to his mouth
Immortal savours and the taste whereat
Twice their hard life strains out the coloured veins
And twice its brain confirms the narrow shell
Also at night unwinding cloth from cloth
As who unhusks an almond to the white
And pastures curiously the purer taste
I bared the gracious limbs and the soft feet
Unswaddled the weak hands and in mid ash
Laid the sweet flesh of either feeble side
More tender for impressure of some touch
Than wax to any pen and lit around
Fire and made crawl the white worm-shapen flame
And leap in little angers spark by spark
At head at once and feet and the faint hair
Hissed with rare sprinkles in the closer curl
And like scaled oarage of a keen thin fish
In sea-water so in pure fire his feet
Struck out and the flame bit not in his flesh
But like a kiss it curled his lip and heat
Fluttered his eyelids so each night I blew
The hot ash red to purge him to full god
Ill is it when fear hungers in the soul
For painful food and chokes thereon being fed
And ill slant eyes interpret the straight sun
But in their scope its white is wried to black
By the queen Metaneira mean I this
For with sick wrath upon her lips and heart
Narrowing with fear the spleenful passages
She thought to thread this web fine ravel out
Nor leave her shuttle split in combing it
Therefore she stole on us and with hard sight
Peered and stooped close then with pale open mouth
As the fire smote her in the eyes between
Cried and the child laugh sharply shortening
As fire doth under rain fell off the flame
Writhed once all through and died and in thick dark
Tears fell from mine on the child weeping eyes
Eyes dispossessed of strong inheritance
And mortal fallen anew Who not the less
From bud of beard to pale-grey flower of hair
Shall wax vinewise to a lordly vine whose grapes
Bleed the red heavy blood of swoln soft wine
Subtle with sharp leaves' intricacy until
Full of white years and blossom of hoary days
I take him perfected for whose one sake
I am thus gracious to the least who stands
Filleted with white wool and girt upon
As he whose prayer endures upon the lip
And falls not waste wherefore let sacrifice
Burn and run red in all the wider ways
Seeing I have sworn by the pale temples' band
And poppied hair of gold Persephone
Sad-tressed and pleached low down about her brows
And by the sorrow in her lips and death
Her dumb and mournful-mouthed minister
My word for you is eased of its harsh weight
And doubled with soft promise and your king
Triptolemus this Celeus dead and swathed
Purple and pale for golden burial
Shall be your helper in my services
Dividing earth and reaping fruits thereof
In fields where wait well-girt well-wreathen all
The heavy-handed seasons all year through
Saving the choice of warm spear-headed grain
And stooping sharp to the slant-sided share
All beasts that furrow the remeasured land
With their bowed necks of burden equable
It hath been seen and yet it shall be seen
That out of tender mouths God praise hath been
Made perfect and with wood and simple string
He hath played music sweet as shawm-playing
To please himself with softness of all sound
And no small thing but hath been sometime found
Full sweet of use and no such humbleness
But God hath bruised withal the sentences
And evidence of wise men witnessing
No leaf that is so soft a hidden thing
It never shall get sight of the great sun
The strength of ten has been the strength of one
And lowliness has waxed imperious
There was in Rome a man Theophilus
Of right great blood and gracious ways that had
All noble fashions to make people glad
And a soft life of pleasurable days
He was a goodly man for one to praise
Flawless and whole upward from foot to head
His arms were a red hawk that alway fed
On a small bird with feathers gnawed upon
Beaten and plucked about the bosom-bone
Whereby a small round fleck like fire there was
They called it in their tongue lampadias
This was the banner of the lordly man
In many straits of sea and reaches wan
Full of quick wind and many a shaken firth
It had seen fighting days of either earth
Westward or east of waters Gaditane
This was the place of sea-rocks under Spain
Called after the great praise of Hercules
And north beyond the washing Pontic seas
Far windy Russian places fabulous
And salt fierce tides of storm-swoln Bosphorus
Now as this lord came straying in Rome town
He saw a little lattice open down
And after it a press of maidens' heads
That sat upon their cold small quiet beds
Talking and played upon short-stringed lutes
And other some ground perfume out of roots
Gathered by marvellous moons in Asia
Saffron and aloes and wild cassia
Coloured all through and smelling of the sun
And over all these was a certain one
Clothed softly with sweet herbs about her hair
And bosom flowerful her face more fair
Than sudden-singing April in soft lands
Eyed like a gracious bird and in both hands
She held a psalter painted green and red
This Theophile laughed at the heart and said
Now God so help me hither and St Paul
As by the new time of their festival
I have good will to take this maid to wife
And herewith fell to fancies of her life
And soft half-thoughts that ended suddenly
This is man guise to please himself when he
Shall not see one thing of his pleasant things
Nor with outwatch of many travailings
Come to be eased of the least pain he hath
For all his love and all his foolish wrath
And all the heavy manner of his mind
Thus is he like a fisher fallen blind
That casts his nets across the boat awry
To strike the sea but lo he striketh dry
And plucks them back all broken for his pain
And bites his beard and casts across again
And reaching wrong slips over in the sea
So hath this man a strangled neck for fee
For all his cost he chuckles in his throat
This Theophile that little hereof wote
Laid wait to hear of her what she might be
Men told him she had name of Dorothy
And was a lady of a worthy house
Thereat this knight grew inly glorious
That he should have a love so fair of place
She was a maiden of most quiet face
Tender of speech and had no hardihood
But was nigh feeble of her fearful blood
Her mercy in her was so marvellous
From her least years that seeing her school-fellows
That read beside her stricken with a rod
She would cry sore and say some word to God
That he would ease her fellow of his pain
There is no touch of sun or fallen rain
That ever fell on a more gracious thing
In middle Rome there was in stone-working
The church of Venus painted royally
The chapels of it were some two or three
In each of them her tabernacle was
And a wide window of six feet in glass
Coloured with all her works in red and gold
The altars had bright cloths and cups to hold
The wine of Venus for the services
Made out of honey and crushed wood-berries
That shed sweet yellow through the thick wet red
That on high days was borne upon the head
Of Venus' priest for any man to drink
So that in drinking he should fall to think
On some fair face and in the thought thereof
Worship and such should triumph in his love
For this soft wine that did such grace and good
Was new trans-shaped and mixed with Love own blood
That in the fighting Trojan time was bled
For which came such a woe to Diomed
That he was stifled after in hard sea
And some said that this wine-shedding should be
Made of the falling of Adonis' blood
That curled upon the thorns and broken wood
And round the gold silk shoes on Venus' feet
The taste thereof was as hot honey sweet
And in the mouth ran soft and riotous
This was the holiness of Venus' house
It was their worship that in August days
Twelve maidens should go through those Roman ways
Naked and having gold across their brows
And their hair twisted in short golden rows
To minister to Venus in this wise
And twelve men chosen in their companies
To match these maidens by the altar-stair
All in one habit crowned upon the hair
Among these men was chosen Theophile
This knight went out and prayed a little while
Holding queen Venus by her hands and knees
I will give thee twelve royal images
Cut in glad gold with marvels of wrought stone
For thy sweet priests to lean and pray upon
Jasper and hyacinth and chrysopras
And the strange Asian thalamite that was
Hidden twelve ages under heavy sea
Among the little sleepy pearls to be
A shrine lit over with soft candle-flame
Burning all night red as hot brows of shame
So thou wilt be my lady without sin
Goddess that art all gold outside and in
Help me to serve thee in thy holy way
Thou knowest Love that in my bearing day
There shone a laughter in the singing stars
Round the gold-ceiled bride-bed wherein Mars
Touched thee and had thee in your kissing wise
Now therefore sweet kiss thou my maiden eyes
That they may open graciously towards me
And this new fashion of thy shrine shall be
As soft with gold as thine own happy head
The goddess that was painted with face red
Between two long green tumbled sides of sea
Stooped her neck sideways and spake pleasantly
Thou shalt have grace as thou art thrall of mine
And with this came a savour of shed wine
And plucked-out petals from a rose head
And softly with slow laughs of lip she said
Thou shalt have favour all thy days of me
Then came Theophilus to Dorothy
Saying O sweet if one should strive or speak
Against God ways he gets a beaten cheek
For all his wage and shame above all men
Therefore I have no will to turn again
When God saith go lest a worse thing fall out
Then she misdoubting lest he went about
To catch her wits made answer somewhat thus
I have no will my lord Theophilus
To speak against this worthy word of yours
Knowing how God will in all speech endures
That save by grace there may no thing be said
Then Theophile waxed light from foot to head
And softly fell upon this answering
It is well seen you are a chosen thing
To do God service in his gracious way
I will that you make haste and holiday
To go next year upon the Venus stair
Covered none else but crowned upon your hair
And do the service that a maiden doth
She said but I that am Christ maid were loth
To do this thing that hath such bitter name
Thereat his brows were beaten with sore shame
And he came off and said no other word
Then his eyes chanced upon his banner-bird
And he fell fingering at the staff of it
And laughed for wrath and stared between his feet
And out of a chafed heart he spake as thus
Lo how she japes at me Theophilus
Feigning herself a fool and hard to love
Yet in good time for all she boasteth of
She shall be like a little beaten bird
And while his mouth was open in that word
He came upon the house Janiculum
Where some went busily and other some
Talked in the gate called the gate glorious
The emperor which was one Gabalus
Sat over all and drank chill wine alone
To whom is come Theophilus anon
And said as thus Beau sire Dieu vous aide
And afterward sat under him and said
All this thing through as ye have wholly heard
This Gabalus laughed thickly in his beard
Yea this is righteousness and maiden rule
Truly he said a maid is but a fool
And japed at them as one full villainous
In a lewd wise this heathen Gabalus
And sent his men to bind her as he bade
Thus have they taken Dorothy the maid
And haled her forth as men hale pick-purses
A little need God knows they had of this
To hale her by her maiden gentle hair
Thus went she lowly making a soft prayer
As one who stays the sweet wine in his mouth
Murmuring with eased lips and is most loth
To have done wholly with the sweet of it
Christ king fair Christ that knowest all men wit
And all the feeble fashion of my ways
O perfect God that from all yesterdays
Abidest whole with morrows perfected
I pray thee by thy mother holy head
Thou help me to do right that I not slip
I have no speech nor strength upon my lip
Except thou help me who art wise and sweet
Do this too for those nails that clove thy feet
Let me die maiden after many pains
Though I be least among thy handmaidens
Doubtless I shall take death more sweetly thus
Now have they brought her to King Gabalus
Who laughed in all his throat some breathing-whiles
By God he said if one should leap two miles
He were not pained about the sides so much
This were a soft thing for a man to touch
Shall one so chafe that hath such little bones
And shook his throat with thick and chuckled moans
For laughter that she had such holiness
What aileth thee wilt thou do services
It were good fare to fare as Venus doth
Then said this lady with her maiden mouth
Shamefaced and something paler in the cheek
Now sir albeit my wit and will to speak
Give me no grace in sight of worthy men
For all my shame yet know I this again
I may not speak nor after downlying
Rise up to take delight in lute-playing
Nor sing nor sleep nor sit and fold my hands
But my soul in some measure understands
God grace laid like a garment over me
For this fair God that out of strong sharp sea
Lifted the shapely and green-coloured land
And hath the weight of heaven in his hand
As one might hold a bird and under him
The heavy golden planets beam by beam
Building the feasting-chambers of his house
And the large world he holdeth with his brows
And with the light of them astonisheth
All place and time and face of life and death
And motion of the north wind and the south
And is the sound within his angel mouth
Of singing words and words of thanksgiving
And is the colour of the latter spring
And heat upon the summer and the sun
And is beginning of all things begun
And gathers in him all things to their end
And with the fingers of his hand doth bend
The stretched-out sides of heaven like a sail
And with his breath he maketh the red pale
And fills with blood faint faces of men dead
And with the sound between his lips are fed
Iron and fire and the white body of snow
And blossom of all trees in places low
And small bright herbs about the little hills
And fruit pricked softly with birds' tender bills
And flight of foam about green fields of sea
And fourfold strength of the great winds that be
Moved always outward from beneath his feet
And growth of grass and growth of sheaved wheat
And all green flower of goodly-growing lands
And all these things he gathers with his hands
And covers all their beauty with his wings
The same even God that governs all these things
Hath set my feet to be upon his ways
Now therefore for no painfulness of days
I shall put off this service bound on me
Also fair sir ye know this certainly
How God was in his flesh full chaste and meek
And gave his face to shame and either cheek
Gave up to smiting of men tyrannous
And here with a great voice this Gabalus
Cried out and said By God blood and his bones
This were good game betwixen night and nones
For one to sit and hearken to such saws
I were as lief fall in some big beast jaws
As hear these women jaw-teeth clattering
By God a woman is the harder thing
One may not put a hook into her mouth
Now by St Luke I am so sore adrouth
For all these saws I must needs drink again
But I pray God deliver all us men
From all such noise of women and their heat
That is a noble scripture well I weet
That likens women to an empty can
When God said that he was a full wise man
I trow no man may blame him as for that
And herewithal he drank a draught and spat
And said Now shall I make an end hereof
Come near all men and hearken for God love
And ye shall hear a jest or twain God wot
And spake as thus with mouth full thick and hot
But thou do this thou shalt be shortly slain
Lo sir she said this death and all this pain
I take in penance of my bitter sins
Yea now quoth Gabalus this game begins
Lo without sin one shall not live a span
Lo this is she that would not look on man
Between her fingers folded in thwart wise
See how her shame hath smitten in her eyes
That was so clean she had not heard of shame
Certes he said by Gabalus my name
This two years back I was not so well pleased
This were good mirth for sick men to be eased
And rise up whole and laugh at hearing of
I pray thee show us something of thy love
Since thou wast maid thy gown is waxen wide
Yea maid I am she said and somewhat sighed
As one who thought upon the low fair house
Where she sat working with soft bended brows
Watching her threads among the school-maidens
And she thought well now God had brought her thence
She should not come to sew her gold again
Then cried King Gabalus upon his men
To have her forth and draw her with steel gins
And as a man hag-ridden beats and grins
And bends his body sidelong in his bed
So wagged he with his body and knave head
Gaping at her and blowing with his breath
And in good time he gat an evil death
Out of his lewdness with his cursed wives
His bones were hewn asunder as with knives
For his misliving certes it is said
But all the evil wrought upon this maid
It were full hard for one to handle it
For her soft blood was shed upon her feet
And all her body colour bruised and faint
But she as one abiding God great saint
Spake not nor wept for all this travail hard
Wherefore the king commanded afterward
To slay her presently in all men sight
And it was now an hour upon the night
And winter-time and a few stars began
The weather was yet feeble and all wan
For beating of a weighty wind and snow
And she came walking in soft wise and slow
And many men with faces piteous
Then came this heavy cursing Gabalus
That swore full hard into his drunken beard
And faintly after without any word
Came Theophile some paces off the king
And in the middle of this wayfaring
Full tenderly beholding her he said
There is no word of comfort with men dead
Nor any face and colour of things sweet
But always with lean cheeks and lifted feet
These dead men lie all aching to the blood
With bitter cold their brows withouten hood
Beating for chill their bodies swathed full thin
Alas what hire shall any have herein
To give his life and get such bitterness
Also the soul going forth bodiless
Is hurt with naked cold and no man saith
If there be house or covering for death
To hide the soul that is discomforted
Then she beholding him a little said
Alas fair lord ye have no wit of this
For on one side death is full poor of bliss
And as ye say full sharp of bone and lean
But on the other side is good and green
And hath soft flower of tender-coloured hair
Grown on his head and a red mouth as fair
As may be kissed with lips thereto his face
Is as God face and in a perfect place
Full of all sun and colour of straight boughs
And waterheads about a painted house
That hath a mile of flowers either way
Outward from it and blossom-grass of May
Thickening on many a side for length of heat
Hath God set death upon a noble seat
Covered with green and flowered in the fold
In likeness of a great king grown full old
And gentle with new temperance of blood
And on his brows a purfled purple hood
They may not carry any golden thing
And plays some tune with subtle fingering
On a small cithern full of tears and sleep
And heavy pleasure that is quick to weep
And sorrow with the honey in her mouth
And for this might of music that he doth
Are all souls drawn toward him with great love
And weep for sweetness of the noise thereof
And bow to him with worship of their knees
And all the field is thick with companies
Of fair-clothed men that play on shawms and lutes
And gather honey of the yellow fruits
Between the branches waxen soft and wide
And all this peace endures in either side
Of the green land and God beholdeth all
And this is girdled with a round fair wall
Made of red stone and cool with heavy leaves
Grown out against it and green blossom cleaves
To the green chinks and lesser wall-weed sweet
Kissing the crannies that are split with heat
And branches where the summer draws to head
And Theophile burnt in the cheek and said
Yea could one see it this were marvellous
I pray you at your coming to this house
Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches
Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is
There is no green nor gracious red to see
Yea sir she said that shall I certainly
And from her long sweet throat without a fleck
Undid the gold and through her stretched-out neck
The cold axe clove and smote away her head
Out of her throat the tender blood full red
Fell suddenly through all her long soft hair
And with good speed for hardness of the air
Each man departed to his house again
Lo as fair colour in the face of men
At seed-time of their blood or in such wise
As a thing seen increaseth in men eyes
Caught first far off by sickly fits of sight
So a word said if one shall hear aright
Abides against the season of its growth
This Theophile went slowly as one doth
That is not sure for sickness of his feet
And counting the white stonework of the street
Tears fell out of his eyes for wrath and love
Making him weep more for the shame thereof
Than for true pain so went he half a mile
And women mocked him saying Theophile
Lo she is dead what shall a woman have
That loveth such an one so Christ me save
I were as lief to love a man new-hung
Surely this man has bitten on his tongue
This makes him sad and writhled in his face
And when they came upon the paven place
That was called sometime the place amorous
There came a child before Theophilus
Bearing a basket and said suddenly
Fair sir this is my mistress Dorothy
That sends you gifts and with this he was gone
In all this earth there is not such an one
For colour and straight stature made so fair
The tender growing gold of his pure hair
Was as wheat growing and his mouth as flame
God called him Holy after his own name
With gold cloth like fire burning he was clad
But for the fair green basket that he had
It was filled up with heavy white and red
Great roses stained still where the first rose bled
Burning at heart for shame their heart withholds
And the sad colour of strong marigolds
That have the sun to kiss their lips for love
The flower that Venus' hair is woven of
The colour of fair apples in the sun
Late peaches gathered when the heat was done
And the slain air got breath and after these
The fair faint-headed poppies drunk with ease
And heaviness of hollow lilies red
Then cried they all that saw these things and said
It was God doing and was marvellous
And in brief while this knight Theophilus
Is waxen full of faith and witnesseth
Before the king of God and love and death
For which the king bade hang him presently
A gallows of a goodly piece of tree
This Gabalus hath made to hang him on
Forth of this world lo Theophile is gone
With a wried neck God give us better fare
Than his that hath a twisted throat to wear
But truly for his love God hath him brought
There where his heavy body grieves him nought
Nor all the people plucking at his feet
But in his face his lady face is sweet
And through his lips her kissing lips are gone
God send him peace and joy of such an one
This is the story of St Dorothy
I will you of your mercy pray for me
Because I wrote these sayings for your grace
That I may one day see her in the face
I will that if I say a heavy thing
Your tongues forgive me seeing ye know that spring
Has flecks and fits of pain to keep her sweet
And walks somewhile with winter-bitten feet
Moreover it sounds often well to let
One string when ye play music keep at fret
The whole song through one petal that is dead
Confirms the roses be they white or red
Dead sorrow is not sorrowful to hear
As the thick noise that breaks mid weeping were
The sick sound aching in a lifted throat
Turns to sharp silver of a perfect note
And though the rain falls often and with rain
Late autumn falls on the old red leaves like pain
I deem that God is not disquieted
Also while men are fed with wine and bread
They shall be fed with sorrow at his hand
There grew a rose-garden in Florence land
More fair than many all red summers through
The leaves smelt sweet and sharp of rain and blew
Sideways with tender wind and therein fell
Sweet sound wherewith the green waxed audible
As a bird will to sing disturbed his throat
And set the sharp wings forward like a boat
Pushed through soft water moving his brown side
Smooth-shapen as a maid and shook with pride
His deep warm bosom till the heavy sun's
Set face of heat stopped all the songs at once
The ways were clean to walk and delicate
And when the windy white of March grew late
Before the trees took heart to face the sun
With ravelled raiment of lean winter on
The roots were thick and hot with hollow grass
Some roods away a lordly house there was
Cool with broad courts and latticed passage wet
From rush-flowers and lilies ripe to set
Sown close among the strewings of the floor
And either wall of the slow corridor
Was dim with deep device of gracious things
Some angel steady mouth and weight of wings
Shut to the side or Peter with straight stole
And beard cut black against the aureole
That spanned his head from nape to crown thereby
Mary gold hair thick to the girdle-tie
Wherein was bound a child with tender feet
Or the broad cross with blood nigh brown on it
Within this house a righteous lord abode
Ser Averardo patient of his mood
And just of judgment and to child he had
A maid so sweet that her mere sight made glad
Men sorrowing and unbound the brows of hate
And where she came the lips that pain made strait
Waxed warm and wide and from untender grew
Tender as those that sleep brings patience to
Such long locks had she that with knee to chin
She might have wrapped and warmed her feet therein
Right seldom fell her face on weeping wise
Gold hair she had and golden-coloured eyes
Filled with clear light and fire and large repose
Like a fair hound no man there is but knows
Her face was white and thereto she was tall
In no wise lacked there any praise at all
To her most perfect and pure maidenhood
No sin I think there was in all her blood
She where a gold grate shut the roses in
Dwelt daily through deep summer weeks through green
Flushed hours of rain upon the leaves and there
Love made him room and space to worship her
With tender worship of bowed knees and wrought
Such pleasure as the pained sense palates not
For weariness but at one taste undoes
The heart of its strong sweet is ravenous
Of all the hidden honey words and sense
Fail through the tune imperious prevalence
In a poor house this lover kept apart
Long communing with patience next his heart
If love of his might move that face at all
Tuned evenwise with colours musical
Then after length of days he said thus Love
For love own sake and for the love thereof
Let no harsh words untune your gracious mood
For good it were if anything be good
To comfort me in this pain plague of mine
Seeing thus how neither sleep nor bread nor wine
Seems pleasant to me yea no thing that is
Seems pleasant to me only I know this
Love ways are sharp for palms of piteous feet
To travel but the end of such is sweet
Now do with me as seemeth you the best
She mused a little as one holds his guest
By the hand musing with her face borne down
Then said Yea though such bitter seed be sown
Have no more care of all that you have said
Since if there is no sleep will bind your head
Lo I am fain to help you certainly
Christ knoweth sir if I would have you die
There is no pleasure when a man is dead
Thereat he kissed her hands and yellow head
And clipped her fair long body many times
I have no wit to shape in written rhymes
A scanted tithe of this great joy they had
They were too near love secret to be glad
As whoso deems the core will surely melt
From the warm fruit his lips caress hath felt
Some bitter kernel where the teeth shut hard
Or as sweet music sharpens afterward
Being half disrelished both for sharp and sweet
As sea-water having killed over-heat
In a man body chills it with faint ache
So their sense burdened only for love sake
Failed for pure love yet so time served their wit
They saved each day some gold reserves of it
Being wiser in love riddle than such be
Whom fragments feed with his chance charity
All things felt sweet were felt sweet overmuch
The rose-thorn prickle dangerous to touch
And flecks of fire in the thin leaf-shadows
Too keen the breathed honey of the rose
Its red too harsh a weight on feasted eyes
They were so far gone in love histories
Beyond all shape and colour and mere breath
Where pleasure has for kinsfolk sleep and death
And strength of soul and body waxen blind
For weariness and flesh entailed with mind
When the keen edge of sense foretasteth sin
Even this green place the summer caught them in
Seemed half deflowered and sick with beaten leaves
In their strayed eyes these gold flower-fumed eves
Burnt out to make the sun love-offering
The midnoon prayer the rose thanksgiving
The trees' weight burdening the strengthless air
The shape of her stilled eyes her coloured hair
Her body balance from the moving feet 
All this found fair lacked yet one grain of sweet
It had some warm weeks back so perisheth
On May new lip the tender April breath
So those same walks the wind sowed lilies in
All April through and all their latter kin
Of languid leaves whereon the Autumn blows 
The dead red raiment of the last year rose 
The last year laurel and the last year love
Fade and grow things that death grows weary of
What man will gather in red summer-time
The fruit of some obscure and hoary rhyme
Heard last midwinter taste the heart in it
Mould the smooth semitones afresh refit
The fair limbs ruined flush the dead blood through
With colour make all broken beauties new
For love new lesson shall not such find pain
When the marred music labouring in his brain
Frets him with sweet sharp fragments and lets slip
One word that might leave satisfied his lip 
One touch that might put fire in all the chords
This was her pain to miss from all sweet words
Some taste of sound diverse and delicate 
Some speech the old love found out to compensate
For seasons of shut lips and drowsiness 
Some grace some word the old love found out to bless
Passionless months and undelighted weeks
The flowers had lost their summer-scented cheeks
Their lips were no more sweet than daily breath
The year was plagued with instances of death
So fell it these were sitting in cool grass
With leaves about and many a bird there was
Where the green shadow thickliest impleached
Soft fruit and writhen spray and blossom bleached
Dry in the sun or washed with rains to white
Her girdle was pure silk the bosom bright
With purple as purple water and gold wrought in
One branch had touched with dusk her lips and chin
Made violet of the throat abashed with shade
The breast bright plaited work but nothing frayed
The sun large kiss on the luxurious hair
Her beauty was new colour to the air
And music to the silent many birds
Love was an-hungred for some perfect words
To praise her with but only her low name
Andrevuola came thrice and thrice put shame
In her clear cheek so fruitful with new red
That for pure love straightway shame self was dead
Then with lids gathered as who late had wept
She began saying I have so little slept
My lids drowse now against the very sun
Yea the brain aching with a dream begun
Beats like a fitful blood kiss but both brows
And you shall pluck my thoughts grown dangerous
Almost away He said thus kissing them
O sole sweet thing that God is glad to name
My one gold gift if dreams be sharp and sore
Shall not the waking time increase much more
With taste and sound sweet eyesight or sweet scent
Has any heat too hard and insolent
Burnt bare the tender married leaves undone
The maiden grass shut under from the sun
Where in this world is room enough for pain
The feverish finger of love had touched again
Her lips with happier blood the pain lay meek
In her fair face nor altered lip nor cheek
With pallor or with pulse but in her mouth
Love thirsted as a man wayfaring doth
Making it humble as weak hunger is
She lay close to him bade do this and this
Say that sing thus then almost weeping-ripe
Crouched then laughed low As one that fain would wipe
The old record out of old things done and dead
She rose she heaved her hands up and waxed red
For wilful heart and blameless fear of blame
Saying Though my wits be weak this is no shame
For a poor maid whom love so punisheth
With heats of hesitation and stopped breath
That with my dreams I live yet heavily
For pure sad heart and faith humility
Now be not wroth and I will show you this
Methought our lips upon their second kiss
Met in this place and a fair day we had
And fair soft leaves that waxed and were not sad
With shaken rain or bitten through with drouth
When I beholding ever how your mouth
Waited for mine the throat being fallen back
Saw crawl thereout a live thing flaked with black
Specks of brute slime and leper-coloured scale
A devil hide with foul flame-writhen grail
Fashioned where hell heat festers loathsomest
And that brief speech may ease me of the rest
Thus were you slain and eaten of the thing
My waked eyes felt the new day shuddering
On their low lids felt the whole east so beat
Pant with close pulse of such a plague-struck heat
As if the palpitating dawn drew breath
For horror breathing between life and death
Till the sun sprang blood-bright and violent
So finishing her soft strength wholly spent
She gazed each way lest some brute-hooved thing
The timeless travail of hell childbearing
Should threat upon the sudden whereat he
For relish of her tasted misery
And tender little thornprick of her pain
Laughed with mere love What lover among men
But hath his sense fed sovereignly 'twixt whiles
With tears and covered eyelids and sick smiles
And soft disaster of a pained face
What pain established in so sweet a place
But the plucked leaf of it smells fragrantly
What colour burning man wide-open eye
But may be pleasurably seen what sense
Keeps in its hot sharp extreme violence
No savour of sweet things The bereaved blood
And emptied flesh in their most broken mood
Fail not so wholly famish not when thus
Past honey keeps the starved lip covetous
Therefore this speech from a glad mouth began
Breathed in her tender hair and temples wan
Like one prolonged kiss while the lips had breath
Sleep that abides in vassalage of death
And in death service wears out half his age
Hath his dreams full of deadly vassalage
Shadow and sound of things ungracious
Fair shallow faces hooded bloodless brows
And mouths past kissing yea myself have had
As harsh a dream as holds your eyelids sad
This dream I tell you came three nights ago
In full mid sleep I took a whim to know
How sweet things might be so I turned and thought
But save my dream all sweet availed me not
First came a smell of pounded spice and scent
Such as God ripens in some continent
Of utmost amber in the Syrian sea
And breaths as though some costly rose could be
Spoiled slowly wasted by some bitter fire
To burn the sweet out leaf by leaf and tire
The flower poor heart with heat and waste to make
Strong magic for some perfumed woman sake
Then a cool naked sense beneath my feet
Of bud and blossom and sound of veins that beat
As if a lute should play of its own heart
And fearfully not smitten of either part
And all my blood it filled with sharp and sweet
As gold swoln grain fills out the husked wheat
So I rose naked from the bed and stood
Counting the mobile measure in my blood
Some pleasant while and through each limb there came
Swift little pleasures pungent as a flame
Felt in the thrilling flesh and veins as much
As the outer curls that feel the comb first touch
Thrill to the roots and shiver as from fire
And blind between my dream and my desire
I seemed to stand and held my spirit still
Lest this should cease A child whose fingers spill
Honey from cells forgotten of the bee
Is less afraid to stir the hive and see
Some wasp bright back inside than I to feel
Some finger-touch disturb the flesh like steel
I prayed thus Let me catch a secret here
So sweet it sharpens the sweet taste of fear
And takes the mouth with edge of wine I would
Have here some colour and smooth shape as good
As those in heaven whom the chief garden hides
With low grape-blossom veiling their white sides
And lesser tendrils that so bind and blind
Their eyes and feet that if one come behind
To touch their hair they see not neither fly
This would I see in heaven and not die
So praying I had nigh cried out and knelt
So wholly my prayer filled me till I felt
In the dumb night warm weight of glowing gloom
Somewhat that altered all my sleeping-room
And made it like a green low place wherein
Maids mix to bathe one sets her small warm chin
Against a ripple that the angry pearl
May flow like flame about her the next curl
Dips in some eddy coloured of the sun
To wash the dust well out another one
Holds a straight ankle in her hand and swings
With lavish body sidelong so that rings
Of sweet fierce water swollen and splendid fail
All round her fine and floated body pale
Swayed flower-fashion and her balanced side
Swerved edgeways lets the weight of water slide
As taken in some underflow of sea
Swerves the banked gold of sea-flowers but she
Pulls down some branch to keep her perfect head
Clear of the river even from wall to bed
I tell you was my room transfigured so
Sweet green and warm it was nor could one know
If there were walls or leaves or if there was
No bed green curtain but mere gentle grass
There were set also hard against the feet
Gold plates with honey and green grapes to eat
With the cool water noise to hear in rhymes
And a wind warmed me full of furze and limes
And all hot sweets the heavy summer fills
To the round brim of smooth cup-shapen hills
Next the grave walking of a woman feet
Made my veins hesitate and gracious heat
Made thick the lids and leaden on mine eyes
And I thought ever surely it were wise
Not yet to see her this may last who knows
Five minutes the poor rose is twice a rose
Because it turns a face to her the wind
Sings that way hath this woman ever sinned
I wonder as a boy with apple-rind
I played with pleasures made them to my mind
Changed each ere tasting When she came indeed
First her hair touched me then I grew to feed
On the sense of her hand her mouth at last
Touched me between the cheek and lip and past
Over my face with kisses here and there
Sown in and out across the eyes and hair
Still I said nothing till she set her face
More close and harder on the kissing-place
And her mouth caught like a snake mouth and stung
So faint and tenderly the fang scarce clung
More than a bird foot yet a wound it grew
A great one let this red mark witness you
Under the left breast and the stroke thereof
So clove my sense that I woke out of love
And knew not what this dream was nor had wit
But now God knows if I have skill of it
Hereat she laid one palm against her lips
To stop their trembling as when water slips
Out of a beak-mouthed vessel with faint noise
And chuckles in the narrowed throat and cloys
The carven rims with murmuring so came
Words in her lips with no word right of them
A beaten speech thick and disconsolate
Till his smile ceasing waxed compassionate
Of her sore fear that grew from anything 
The sound of the strong summer thickening
In heated leaves of the smooth apple-trees
The day breath felt about the ash-branches
And noises of the noon whose weight still grew
On the hot heavy-headed flowers and drew
Their red mouths open till the rose-heart ached
For eastward all the crowding rose was slaked
And soothed with shade but westward all its growth
Seemed to breathe hard with heat as a man doth
Who feels his temples newly feverous
And even with such motion in her brows
As that man hath in whom sick days begin
She turned her throat and spake her voice being thin
As a sick man sudden and tremulous
Sweet if this end be come indeed on us
Let us love more and held his mouth with hers
As the first sound of flooded hill-waters
Is heard by people of the meadow-grass
Or ever a wandering waif of ruin pass
With whirling stones and foam of the brown stream
Flaked with fierce yellow so beholding him
She felt before tears came her eyelids wet
Saw the face deadly thin where life was yet
Heard his throat harsh last moan before it clomb
And he with close mouth passionate and dumb
Burned at her lips so lay they without speech
Each grasping other and the eyes of each
Fed in the other face till suddenly
He cried out with a little broken cry
This word O help me sweet I am but dead
And even so saying the colour of fair red
Was gone out of his face and his blood beat
Fell and stark death made sharp his upward feet
And pointed hands and without moan he died
Pain smote her sudden in the brows and side
Strained her lips open and made burn her eyes
For the pure sharpness of her miseries
She had no heart pain but mere body wrack
But at the last her beaten blood drew back
Slowly upon her face and her stunned brows
Suddenly grown aware and piteous
Gathered themselves her eyes shone her hard breath
Came as though one nigh dead came back from death
Her lips throbbed and life trembled through her hair
And in brief while she thought to bury there
The dead man that her love might lie with him
In a sweet bed under the rose-roots dim
And soft earth round the branched apple-trees
Full of hushed heat and heavy with great ease
And no man entering divide him thence
Wherefore she bade one of her handmaidens
To be her help to do upon this wise
And saying so the tears out of her eyes
Fell without noise and comforted her heart
Yea her great pain eased of the sorest part
Began to soften in her sense of it
There under all the little branches sweet
The place was shapen of his burial
They shed thereon no thing funereal
But coloured leaves of latter rose-blossom
Stems of soft grass some withered red and some
Fair and fresh-blooded and spoil splendider
Of marigold and great spent sunflower
And afterward she came back without word
To her own house two days went and the third
Went and she showed her father of this thing
And for great grief of her soul travailing
He gave consent she should endure in peace
Till her life end yea till her time should cease
She should abide in fellowship of pain
And having lived a holy year or twain
She died of pure waste heart and weariness
And for love honour in her love distress
This word was written over her tomb head
Here dead she lieth for whose sake Love is dead
These to His Memory since he held them dear
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himself I dedicate
I dedicate I consecrate with tears 
These Idylls And indeed He seems to me
Scarce other than my king ideal knight
Who reverenced his conscience as his king
Whose glory was redressing human wrong
Who spake no slander no nor listened to it
Who loved one only and who clave to her 
Her over all whose realms to their last isle
Commingled with the gloom of imminent war
The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse
Darkening the world We have lost him he is gone
We know him now all narrow jealousies
Are silent and we see him as he moved
How modest kindly all-accomplished wise
With what sublime repression of himself
And in what limits and how tenderly
Not swaying to this faction or to that
Not making his high place the lawless perch
Of winged ambitions nor a vantage-ground
For pleasure but through all this tract of years
Wearing the white flower of a blameless life
Before a thousand peering littlenesses
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne
And blackens every blot for where is he
Who dares foreshadow for an only son
A lovelier life a more unstained than his
Or how should England dreaming of his sons
Hope more for these than some inheritance
Of such a life a heart a mind as thine
Thou noble Father of her Kings to be
Laborious for her people and her poor 
Voice in the rich dawn of an ampler day 
Far-sighted summoner of War and Waste
To fruitful strifes and rivalries of peace 
Sweet nature gilded by the gracious gleam
Of letters dear to Science dear to Art
Dear to thy land and ours a Prince indeed
Beyond all titles and a household name
Hereafter through all times Albert the Good
Break not O woman's-heart but still endure
Break not for thou art Royal but endure
Remembering all the beauty of that star
Which shone so close beside Thee that ye made
One light together but has past and leaves
The Crown a lonely splendour May all love
His love unseen but felt o'ershadow Thee
The love of all Thy sons encompass Thee
The love of all Thy daughters cherish Thee
The love of all Thy people comfort Thee
Till God love set Thee at his side again
Leodogran the King of Cameliard
Had one fair daughter and none other child
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth
Guinevere and in her his one delight
For many a petty king ere Arthur came
Ruled in this isle and ever waging war
Each upon other wasted all the land
And still from time to time the heathen host
Swarmed overseas and harried what was left
And so there grew great tracts of wilderness
Wherein the beast was ever more and more
But man was less and less till Arthur came
For first Aurelius lived and fought and died
And after him King Uther fought and died
But either failed to make the kingdom one
And after these King Arthur for a space
And through the puissance of his Table Round
Drew all their petty princedoms under him
Their king and head and made a realm and reigned
And thus the land of Cameliard was waste
Thick with wet woods and many a beast therein
And none or few to scare or chase the beast
So that wild dog and wolf and boar and bear
Came night and day and rooted in the fields
And wallowed in the gardens of the King
And ever and anon the wolf would steal
The children and devour but now and then
Her own brood lost or dead lent her fierce teat
To human sucklings and the children housed
In her foul den there at their meat would growl
And mock their foster mother on four feet
Till straightened they grew up to wolf-like men
Worse than the wolves And King Leodogran
Groaned for the Roman legions here again
And Caesar eagle then his brother king
Urien assailed him last a heathen horde
Reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood
And on the spike that split the mother heart
Spitting the child brake on him till amazed
He knew not whither he should turn for aid
But for he heard of Arthur newly crowned
Though not without an uproar made by those
Who cried He is not Uther son the King
Sent to him saying Arise and help us thou
For here between the man and beast we die
And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms
But heard the call and came and Guinevere
Stood by the castle walls to watch him pass
But since he neither wore on helm or shield
The golden symbol of his kinglihood
But rode a simple knight among his knights
And many of these in richer arms than he
She saw him not or marked not if she saw
One among many though his face was bare
But Arthur looking downward as he past
Felt the light of her eyes into his life
Smite on the sudden yet rode on and pitched
His tents beside the forest Then he drave
The heathen after slew the beast and felled
The forest letting in the sun and made
Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight
And so returned For while he lingered there
A doubt that ever smouldered in the hearts
Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm
Flashed forth and into war for most of these
Colleaguing with a score of petty kings
Made head against him crying Who is he
That he should rule us who hath proven him
King Uther son for lo we look at him
And find nor face nor bearing limbs nor voice
Are like to those of Uther whom we knew
This is the son of Gorlois not the King
This is the son of Anton not the King
And Arthur passing thence to battle felt
Travail and throes and agonies of the life
Desiring to be joined with Guinevere
And thinking as he rode Her father said
That there between the man and beast they die
Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts
Up to my throne and side by side with me
What happiness to reign a lonely king
Vext O ye stars that shudder over me
O earth that soundest hollow under me
Vext with waste dreams for saving I be joined
To her that is the fairest under heaven
I seem as nothing in the mighty world
And cannot will my will nor work my work
Wholly nor make myself in mine own realm
Victor and lord But were I joined with her
Then might we live together as one life
And reigning with one will in everything
Have power on this dark land to lighten it
And power on this dead world to make it live
Thereafter as he speaks who tells the tale 
When Arthur reached a field-of-battle bright
With pitched pavilions of his foe the world
Was all so clear about him that he saw
The smallest rock far on the faintest hill
And even in high day the morning star
So when the King had set his banner broad
At once from either side with trumpet-blast
And shouts and clarions shrilling unto blood
The long-lanced battle let their horses run
And now the Barons and the kings prevailed
And now the King as here and there that war
Went swaying but the Powers who walk the world
Made lightnings and great thunders over him
And dazed all eyes till Arthur by main might
And mightier of his hands with every blow
And leading all his knighthood threw the kings
Carados Urien Cradlemont of Wales
Claudias and Clariance of Northumberland
The King Brandagoras of Latangor
With Anguisant of Erin Morganore
And Lot of Orkney Then before a voice
As dreadful as the shout of one who sees
To one who sins and deems himself alone
And all the world asleep they swerved and brake
Flying and Arthur called to stay the brands
That hacked among the flyers Ho they yield
So like a painted battle the war stood
Silenced the living quiet as the dead
And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord
He laughed upon his warrior whom he loved
And honoured most Thou dost not doubt me King
So well thine arm hath wrought for me today
Sir and my liege he cried the fire of God
Descends upon thee in the battle-field
I know thee for my King Whereat the two
For each had warded either in the fight
Sware on the field of death a deathless love
And Arthur said Man word is God in man
Let chance what will I trust thee to the death
Then quickly from the foughten field he sent
Ulfius and Brastias and Bedivere
His new-made knights to King Leodogran
Saying If I in aught have served thee well
Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife
Whom when he heard Leodogran in heart
Debating How should I that am a king
However much he holp me at my need
Give my one daughter saving to a king
And a king son lifted his voice and called
A hoary man his chamberlain to whom
He trusted all things and of him required
His counsel Knowest thou aught of Arthur birth
Then spake the hoary chamberlain and said
Sir King there be but two old men that know
And each is twice as old as I and one
Is Merlin the wise man that ever served
King Uther through his magic art and one
Is Merlin master so they call him Bleys
Who taught him magic but the scholar ran
Before the master and so far that Bleys
Laid magic by and sat him down and wrote
All things and whatsoever Merlin did
In one great annal-book where after-years
Will learn the secret of our Arthur birth
To whom the King Leodogran replied
O friend had I been holpen half as well
By this King Arthur as by thee today
Then beast and man had had their share of me
But summon here before us yet once more
Ulfius and Brastias and Bedivere
Then when they came before him the King said
I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl
And reason in the chase but wherefore now
Do these your lords stir up the heat of war
Some calling Arthur born of Gorlois
Others of Anton Tell me ye yourselves
Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther son
And Ulfius and Brastias answered Ay
Then Bedivere the first of all his knights
Knighted by Arthur at his crowning spake 
For bold in heart and act and word was he
Whenever slander breathed against the King 
Sir there be many rumours on this head
For there be those who hate him in their hearts
Call him baseborn and since his ways are sweet
And theirs are bestial hold him less than man
And there be those who deem him more than man
And dream he dropt from heaven but my belief
In all this matter so ye care to learn 
Sir for ye know that in King Uther time
The prince and warrior Gorlois he that held
Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea
Was wedded with a winsome wife Ygerne
And daughters had she borne him one whereof
Lot wife the Queen of Orkney Bellicent
Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved
To Arthur but a son she had not borne
And Uther cast upon her eyes of love
But she a stainless wife to Gorlois
So loathed the bright dishonour of his love
That Gorlois and King Uther went to war
And overthrown was Gorlois and slain
Then Uther in his wrath and heat besieged
Ygerne within Tintagil where her men
Seeing the mighty swarm about their walls
Left her and fled and Uther entered in
And there was none to call to but himself
So compassed by the power of the King
Enforced was she to wed him in her tears
And with a shameful swiftness afterward
Not many moons King Uther died himself
Moaning and wailing for an heir to rule
After him lest the realm should go to wrack
And that same night the night of the new year
By reason of the bitterness and grief
That vext his mother all before his time
Was Arthur born and all as soon as born
Delivered at a secret postern-gate
To Merlin to be holden far apart
Until his hour should come because the lords
Of that fierce day were as the lords of this
Wild beasts and surely would have torn the child
Piecemeal among them had they known for each
But sought to rule for his own self and hand
And many hated Uther for the sake
Of Gorlois Wherefore Merlin took the child
And gave him to Sir Anton an old knight
And ancient friend of Uther and his wife
Nursed the young prince and reared him with her own
And no man knew And ever since the lords
Have foughten like wild beasts among themselves
So that the realm has gone to wrack but now
This year when Merlin for his hour had come
Brought Arthur forth and set him in the hall
Proclaiming 'Here is Uther heir your king
A hundred voices cried 'Away with him
No king of ours a son of Gorlois he
Or else the child of Anton and no king
Or else baseborn' Yet Merlin through his craft
And while the people clamoured for a king
Had Arthur crowned but after the great lords
Banded and so brake out in open war
Then while the King debated with himself
If Arthur were the child of shamefulness
Or born the son of Gorlois after death
Or Uther son and born before his time
Or whether there were truth in anything
Said by these three there came to Cameliard
With Gawain and young Modred her two sons
Lot wife the Queen of Orkney Bellicent
Whom as he could not as he would the King
Made feast for saying as they sat at meat
A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas
Ye come from Arthur court Victor his men
Report him Yea but ye think ye this king 
So many those that hate him and so strong
So few his knights however brave they be 
Hath body enow to hold his foemen down
O King she cried and I will tell thee few
Few but all brave all of one mind with him
For I was near him when the savage yells
Of Uther peerage died and Arthur sat
Crowned on the dais and his warriors cried
'Be thou the king and we will work thy will
Who love thee' Then the King in low deep tones
And simple words of great authority
Bound them by so strait vows to his own self
That when they rose knighted from kneeling some
Were pale as at the passing of a ghost
Some flushed and others dazed as one who wakes
Half-blinded at the coming of a light
But when he spake and cheered his Table Round
With large divine and comfortable words
Beyond my tongue to tell thee I beheld
From eye to eye through all their Order flash
A momentary likeness of the King
And ere it left their faces through the cross
And those around it and the Crucified
Down from the casement over Arthur smote
Flame-colour vert and azure in three rays
One falling upon each of three fair queens
Who stood in silence near his throne the friends
Of Arthur gazing on him tall with bright
Sweet faces who will help him at his need
And there I saw mage Merlin whose vast wit
And hundred winters are but as the hands
Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege
And near him stood the Lady of the Lake
Who knows a subtler magic than his own 
Clothed in white samite mystic wonderful
She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword
Whereby to drive the heathen out a mist
Of incense curled about her and her face
Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom
But there was heard among the holy hymns
A voice as of the waters for she dwells
Down in a deep calm whatsoever storms
May shake the world and when the surface rolls
Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord
There likewise I beheld Excalibur
Before him at his crowning borne the sword
That rose from out the bosom of the lake
And Arthur rowed across and took it rich
With jewels elfin Urim on the hilt
Bewildering heart and eye the blade so bright
That men are blinded by it on one side
Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world
'Take me' but turn the blade and ye shall see
And written in the speech ye speak yourself
'Cast me away' And sad was Arthur face
Taking it but old Merlin counselled him
'Take thou and strike the time to cast away
Is yet far-off' So this great brand the king
Took and by this will beat his foemen down
Thereat Leodogran rejoiced but thought
To sift his doubtings to the last and asked
Fixing full eyes of question on her face
The swallow and the swift are near akin
But thou art closer to this noble prince
Being his own dear sister and she said
Daughter of Gorlois and Ygerne am I
And therefore Arthur sister asked the King
She answered These be secret things and signed
To those two sons to pass and let them be
And Gawain went and breaking into song
Sprang out and followed by his flying hair
Ran like a colt and leapt at all he saw
But Modred laid his ear beside the doors
And there half-heard the same that afterward
Struck for the throne and striking found his doom
And then the Queen made answer What know I
For dark my mother was in eyes and hair
And dark in hair and eyes am I and dark
Was Gorlois yea and dark was Uther too
Wellnigh to blackness but this King is fair
Beyond the race of Britons and of men
Moreover always in my mind I hear
A cry from out the dawning of my life
A mother weeping and I hear her say
'O that ye had some brother pretty one
To guard thee on the rough ways of the world'
Ay said the King and hear ye such a cry
But when did Arthur chance upon thee first
O King she cried and I will tell thee true
He found me first when yet a little maid
Beaten I had been for a little fault
Whereof I was not guilty and out I ran
And flung myself down on a bank of heath
And hated this fair world and all therein
And wept and wished that I were dead and he 
I know not whether of himself he came
Or brought by Merlin who they say can walk
Unseen at pleasure he was at my side
And spake sweet words and comforted my heart
And dried my tears being a child with me
And many a time he came and evermore
As I grew greater grew with me and sad
At times he seemed and sad with him was I
Stern too at times and then I loved him not
But sweet again and then I loved him well
And now of late I see him less and less
But those first days had golden hours for me
For then I surely thought he would be king
But let me tell thee now another tale
For Bleys our Merlin master as they say
Died but of late and sent his cry to me
To hear him speak before he left his life
Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage
And when I entered told me that himself
And Merlin ever served about the King
Uther before he died and on the night
When Uther in Tintagil past away
Moaning and wailing for an heir the two
Left the still King and passing forth to breathe
Then from the castle gateway by the chasm
Descending through the dismal night a night
In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost 
Beheld so high upon the dreary deeps
It seemed in heaven a ship the shape thereof
A dragon winged and all from stern to stern
Bright with a shining people on the decks
And gone as soon as seen And then the two
Dropt to the cove and watched the great sea fall
Wave after wave each mightier than the last
Till last a ninth one gathering half the deep
And full of voices slowly rose and plunged
Roaring and all the wave was in a flame
And down the wave and in the flame was borne
A naked babe and rode to Merlin feet
Who stoopt and caught the babe and cried 'The King
Here is an heir for Uther' And the fringe
Of that great breaker sweeping up the strand
Lashed at the wizard as he spake the word
And all at once all round him rose in fire
So that the child and he were clothed in fire
And presently thereafter followed calm
Free sky and stars 'And this the same child' he said
'Is he who reigns nor could I part in peace
Till this were told' And saying this the seer
Went through the strait and dreadful pass of death
Not ever to be questioned any more
Save on the further side but when I met
Merlin and asked him if these things were truth 
The shining dragon and the naked child
Descending in the glory of the seas 
He laughed as is his wont and answered me
In riddling triplets of old time and said
'Rain rain and sun a rainbow in the sky
A young man will be wiser by and by
An old man wit may wander ere he die
Rain rain and sun a rainbow on the lea
And truth is this to me and that to thee
And truth or clothed or naked let it be
Rain sun and rain and the free blossom blows
Sun rain and sun and where is he who knows
From the great deep to the great deep he goes
So Merlin riddling angered me but thou
Fear not to give this King thy only child
Guinevere so great bards of him will sing
Hereafter and dark sayings from of old
Ranging and ringing through the minds of men
And echoed by old folk beside their fires
For comfort after their wage-work is done
Speak of the King and Merlin in our time
Hath spoken also not in jest and sworn
Though men may wound him that he will not die
But pass again to come and then or now
Utterly smite the heathen underfoot
Till these and all men hail him for their king
She spake and King Leodogran rejoiced
But musing Shall I answer yea or nay
Doubted and drowsed nodded and slept and saw
Dreaming a slope of land that ever grew
Field after field up to a height the peak
Haze-hidden and thereon a phantom king
Now looming and now lost and on the slope
The sword rose the hind fell the herd was driven
Fire glimpsed and all the land from roof and rick
In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind
Streamed to the peak and mingled with the haze
And made it thicker while the phantom king
Sent out at times a voice and here or there
Stood one who pointed toward the voice the rest
Slew on and burnt crying No king of ours
No son of Uther and no king of ours
Till with a wink his dream was changed the haze
Descended and the solid earth became
As nothing but the King stood out in heaven
Crowned And Leodogran awoke and sent
Ulfius and Brastias and Bedivere
Back to the court of Arthur answering yea
Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved
And honoured most Sir Lancelot to ride forth
And bring the Queen and watched him from the gates
And Lancelot past away among the flowers
For then was latter April and returned
Among the flowers in May with Guinevere
To whom arrived by Dubric the high saint
Chief of the church in Britain and before
The stateliest of her altar-shrines the King
That morn was married while in stainless white
The fair beginners of a nobler time
And glorying in their vows and him his knights
Stood around him and rejoicing in his joy
Far shone the fields of May through open door
The sacred altar blossomed white with May
The Sun of May descended on their King
They gazed on all earth beauty in their Queen
Rolled incense and there past along the hymns
A voice as of the waters while the two
Sware at the shrine of Christ a deathless love
And Arthur said Behold thy doom is mine
Let chance what will I love thee to the death
To whom the Queen replied with drooping eyes
King and my lord I love thee to the death
And holy Dubric spread his hands and spake
Reign ye and live and love and make the world
Other and may thy Queen be one with thee
And all this Order of thy Table Round
Fulfil the boundless purpose of their King
So Dubric said but when they left the shrine
Great Lords from Rome before the portal stood
In scornful stillness gazing as they past
Then while they paced a city all on fire
With sun and cloth of gold the trumpets blew
And Arthur knighthood sang before the King 
Blow trumpet for the world is white with May
Blow trumpet the long night hath rolled away
Blow through the living world 'Let the King reign
Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur realm
Flash brand and lance fall battleaxe upon helm
Fall battleaxe and flash brand Let the King reign
Strike for the King and live his knights have heard
That God hath told the King a secret word
Fall battleaxe and flash brand Let the King reign
Blow trumpet he will lift us from the dust
Blow trumpet live the strength and die the lust
Clang battleaxe and clash brand Let the King reign
Strike for the King and die and if thou diest
The King is King and ever wills the highest
Clang battleaxe and clash brand Let the King reign
Blow for our Sun is mighty in his May
Blow for our Sun is mightier day by day
Clang battleaxe and clash brand Let the King reign
The King will follow Christ and we the King
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing
Fall battleaxe and flash brand Let the King reign
So sang the knighthood moving to their hall
There at the banquet those great Lords from Rome
The slowly-fading mistress of the world
Strode in and claimed their tribute as of yore
But Arthur spake Behold for these have sworn
To wage my wars and worship me their King
The old order changeth yielding place to new
And we that fight for our fair father Christ
Seeing that ye be grown too weak and old
To drive the heathen from your Roman wall
No tribute will we pay so those great lords
Drew back in wrath and Arthur strove with Rome
And Arthur and his knighthood for a space
Were all one will and through that strength the King
Drew in the petty princedoms under him
Fought and in twelve great battles overcame
The heathen hordes and made a realm and reigned
The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent
And tallest Gareth in a showerful spring
Stared at the spate A slender-shafted Pine
Lost footing fell and so was whirled away
How he went down said Gareth as a false knight
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Were mine to use O senseless cataract
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy 
And yet thou art but swollen with cold snows
And mine is living blood thou dost His will
The Maker and not knowest and I that know
Have strength and wit in my good mother hall
Linger with vacillating obedience
Prisoned and kept and coaxed and whistled to 
Since the good mother holds me still a child
Good mother is bad mother unto me
A worse were better yet no worse would I
Heaven yield her for it but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory and thence swoop
Down upon all things base and dash them dead
A knight of Arthur working out his will
To cleanse the world Why Gawain when he came
With Modred hither in the summertime
Asked me to tilt with him the proven knight
Modred for want of worthier was the judge
Then I so shook him in the saddle he said
'Thou hast half prevailed against me' said so he 
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute
For he is alway sullen what care I
And Gareth went and hovering round her chair
Asked Mother though ye count me still the child
Sweet mother do ye love the child She laughed
Thou art but a wild-goose to question it
Then mother an ye love the child he said
Being a goose and rather tame than wild
Hear the child story Yea my well-beloved
An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs
And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes
Nay nay good mother but this egg of mine
Was finer gold than any goose can lay
For this an Eagle a royal Eagle laid
Almost beyond eye-reach on such a palm
As glitters gilded in thy Book of Hours
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth but poor who often saw
The splendour sparkling from aloft and thought
'An I could climb and lay my hand upon it
Then were I wealthier than a leash of kings
But ever when he reached a hand to climb
One that had loved him from his childhood caught
And stayed him 'Climb not lest thou break thy neck
I charge thee by my love' and so the boy
Sweet mother neither clomb nor brake his neck
But brake his very heart in pining for it
And past away To whom the mother said
True love sweet son had risked himself and climbed
And handed down the golden treasure to him
And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes
Gold said I gold ay then why he or she
Or whosoe'er it was or half the world
Had ventured had the thing I spake of been
Mere gold but this was all of that true steel
Whereof they forged the brand Excalibur
And lightnings played about it in the storm
And all the little fowl were flurried at it
And there were cries and clashings in the nest
That sent him from his senses let me go
Then Bellicent bemoaned herself and said
Hast thou no pity upon my loneliness
Lo where thy father Lot beside the hearth
Lies like a log and all but smouldered out
For ever since when traitor to the King
He fought against him in the Barons' war
And Arthur gave him back his territory
His age hath slowly droopt and now lies there
A yet-warm corpse and yet unburiable
No more nor sees nor hears nor speaks nor knows
And both thy brethren are in Arthur hall
Albeit neither loved with that full love
I feel for thee nor worthy such a love
Stay therefore thou red berries charm the bird
And thee mine innocent the jousts the wars
Who never knewest finger-ache nor pang
Of wrenched or broken limb an often chance
In those brain-stunning shocks and tourney-falls
Frights to my heart but stay follow the deer
By these tall firs and our fast-falling burns
So make thy manhood mightier day by day
Sweet is the chase and I will seek thee out
Some comfortable bride and fair to grace
Thy climbing life and cherish my prone year
Till falling into Lot forgetfulness
I know not thee myself nor anything
Stay my best son ye are yet more boy than man
Then Gareth An ye hold me yet for child
Hear yet once more the story of the child
For mother there was once a King like ours
The prince his heir when tall and marriageable
Asked for a bride and thereupon the King
Set two before him One was fair strong armed 
But to be won by force and many men
Desired her one good lack no man desired
And these were the conditions of the King
That save he won the first by force he needs
Must wed that other whom no man desired
A red-faced bride who knew herself so vile
That evermore she longed to hide herself
Nor fronted man or woman eye to eye 
Yea some she cleaved to but they died of her
And one they called her Fame and one O Mother
How can ye keep me tethered to you Shame
Man am I grown a man work must I do
Follow the deer follow the Christ the King
Live pure speak true right wrong follow the King 
Else wherefore born To whom the mother said
Sweet son for there be many who deem him not
Or will not deem him wholly proven King 
Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King
When I was frequent with him in my youth
And heard him Kingly speak and doubted him
No more than he himself but felt him mine
Of closest kin to me yet wilt thou leave
Thine easeful biding here and risk thine all
Life limbs for one that is not proven King
Stay till the cloud that settles round his birth
Hath lifted but a little Stay sweet son
And Gareth answered quickly Not an hour
So that ye yield me I will walk through fire
Mother to gain it your full leave to go
Not proven who swept the dust of ruined Rome
From off the threshold of the realm and crushed
The Idolaters and made the people free
Who should be King save him who makes us free
So when the Queen who long had sought in vain
To break him from the intent to which he grew
Found her son will unwaveringly one
She answered craftily Will ye walk through fire
Who walks through fire will hardly heed the smoke
Ay go then an ye must only one proof
Before thou ask the King to make thee knight
Of thine obedience and thy love to me
Thy mother I demand And Gareth cried
A hard one or a hundred so I go
Nay quick the proof to prove me to the quick
But slowly spake the mother looking at him
Prince thou shalt go disguised to Arthur hall
And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks
Among the scullions and the kitchen-knaves
And those that hand the dish across the bar
Nor shalt thou tell thy name to anyone
And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth and a day
For so the Queen believed that when her son
Beheld his only way to glory lead
Low down through villain kitchen-vassalage
Her own true Gareth was too princely-proud
To pass thereby so should he rest with her
Closed in her castle from the sound of arms
Silent awhile was Gareth then replied
The thrall in person may be free in soul
And I shall see the jousts Thy son am I
And since thou art my mother must obey
I therefore yield me freely to thy will
For hence will I disguised and hire myself
To serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves
Nor tell my name to any no not the King
Gareth awhile lingered The mother eye
Full of the wistful fear that he would go
And turning toward him wheresoe'er he turned
Perplext his outward purpose till an hour
When wakened by the wind which with full voice
Swept bellowing through the darkness on to dawn
He rose and out of slumber calling two
That still had tended on him from his birth
Before the wakeful mother heard him went
The three were clad like tillers of the soil
Southward they set their faces The birds made
Melody on branch and melody in mid air
The damp hill-slopes were quickened into green
And the live green had kindled into flowers
For it was past the time of Easterday
So when their feet were planted on the plain
That broadened toward the base of Camelot
Far off they saw the silver-misty morn
Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount
That rose between the forest and the field
At times the summit of the high city flashed
At times the spires and turrets half-way down
Pricked through the mist at times the great gate shone
Only that opened on the field below
Anon the whole fair city had disappeared
Then those who went with Gareth were amazed
One crying Let us go no further lord
Here is a city of Enchanters built
By fairy Kings The second echoed him
Lord we have heard from our wise man at home
To Northward that this King is not the King
But only changeling out of Fairyland
Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery
And Merlin glamour Then the first again
Lord there is no such city anywhere
But all a vision Gareth answered them
With laughter swearing he had glamour enow
In his own blood his princedom youth and hopes
To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea
So pushed them all unwilling toward the gate
And there was no gate like it under heaven
For barefoot on the keystone which was lined
And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave
The Lady of the Lake stood all her dress
Wept from her sides as water flowing away
But like the cross her great and goodly arms
Stretched under the cornice and upheld
And drops of water fell from either hand
And down from one a sword was hung from one
A censer either worn with wind and storm
And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish
And in the space to left of her and right
Were Arthur wars in weird devices done
New things and old co-twisted as if Time
Were nothing so inveterately that men
Were giddy gazing there and over all
High on the top were those three Queens the friends
Of Arthur who should help him at his need
Then those with Gareth for so long a space
Stared at the figures that at last it seemed
The dragon-boughts and elvish emblemings
Began to move seethe twine and curl they called
To Gareth Lord the gateway is alive
And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes
So long that even to him they seemed to move
Out of the city a blast of music pealed
Back from the gate started the three to whom
From out thereunder came an ancient man
Long-bearded saying Who be ye my sons
Then Gareth We be tillers of the soil
Who leaving share in furrow come to see
The glories of our King but these my men
Your city moved so weirdly in the mist
Doubt if the King be King at all or come
From Fairyland and whether this be built
By magic and by fairy Kings and Queens
Or whether there be any city at all
Or all a vision and this music now
Hath scared them both but tell thou these the truth
Then that old Seer made answer playing on him
And saying Son I have seen the good ship sail
Keel upward and mast downward in the heavens
And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air
And here is truth but an it please thee not
Take thou the truth as thou hast told it me
For truly as thou sayest a Fairy King
And Fairy Queens have built the city son
They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft
Toward the sunrise each with harp in hand
And built it to the music of their harps
And as thou sayest it is enchanted son
For there is nothing in it as it seems
Saving the King though some there be that hold
The King a shadow and the city real
Yet take thou heed of him for so thou pass
Beneath this archway then wilt thou become
A thrall to his enchantments for the King
Will bind thee by such vows as is a shame
A man should not be bound by yet the which
No man can keep but so thou dread to swear
Pass not beneath this gateway but abide
Without among the cattle of the field
For an ye heard a music like enow
They are building still seeing the city is built
To music therefore never built at all
Unmockingly the mocker ending here
Turned to the right and past along the plain
Whom Gareth looking after said My men
Our one white lie sits like a little ghost
Here on the threshold of our enterprise
Let love be blamed for it not she nor I
And stately rich in emblem and the work
Of ancient kings who did their days in stone
Which Merlin hand the Mage at Arthur court
Knowing all arts had touched and everywhere
At Arthur ordinance tipt with lessening peak
And pinnacle and had made it spire to heaven
And ever and anon a knight would pass
Outward or inward to the hall his arms
Clashed and the sound was good to Gareth ear
And out of bower and casement shyly glanced
Eyes of pure women wholesome stars of love
And all about a healthful people stept
As in the presence of a gracious king
Then into hall Gareth ascending heard
A voice the voice of Arthur and beheld
Far over heads in that long-vaulted hall
The splendour of the presence of the King
Throned and delivering doom and looked no more 
But felt his young heart hammering in his ears
And thought For this half-shadow of a lie
The truthful King will doom me when I speak
Yet pressing on though all in fear to find
Sir Gawain or Sir Modred saw nor one
Nor other but in all the listening eyes
Of those tall knights that ranged about the throne
Clear honour shining like the dewy star
Of dawn and faith in their great King with pure
Affection and the light of victory
And glory gained and evermore to gain
Then came a widow crying to the King
A boon Sir King Thy father Uther reft
From my dead lord a field with violence
For howsoe'er at first he proffered gold
Yet for the field was pleasant in our eyes
We yielded not and then he reft us of it
Perforce and left us neither gold nor field
Said Arthur Whether would ye gold or field
To whom the woman weeping Nay my lord
The field was pleasant in my husband eye
And Arthur Have thy pleasant field again
And thrice the gold for Uther use thereof
According to the years No boon is here
But justice so thy say be proven true
Accursed who from the wrongs his father did
Came yet another widow crying to him
A boon Sir King Thine enemy King am I
With thine own hand thou slewest my dear lord
A knight of Uther in the Barons' war
When Lot and many another rose and fought
Against thee saying thou wert basely born
I held with these and loathe to ask thee aught
Yet lo my husband brother had my son
Thralled in his castle and hath starved him dead
And standeth seized of that inheritance
Which thou that slewest the sire hast left the son
So though I scarce can ask it thee for hate
Grant me some knight to do the battle for me
Kill the foul thief and wreak me for my son
Then strode a good knight forward crying to him
A boon Sir King I am her kinsman I
Give me to right her wrong and slay the man
Then came Sir Kay the seneschal and cried
A boon Sir King even that thou grant her none
This railer that hath mocked thee in full hall 
None or the wholesome boon of gyve and gag
But Arthur We sit King to help the wronged
Through all our realm The woman loves her lord
Peace to thee woman with thy loves and hates
The kings of old had doomed thee to the flames
Aurelius Emrys would have scourged thee dead
And Uther slit thy tongue but get thee hence 
Lest that rough humour of the kings of old
Return upon me Thou that art her kin
Go likewise lay him low and slay him not
But bring him here that I may judge the right
According to the justice of the King
Then be he guilty by that deathless King
Who lived and died for men the man shall die
Then came in hall the messenger of Mark
A name of evil savour in the land
The Cornish king In either hand he bore
What dazzled all and shone far-off as shines
A field of charlock in the sudden sun
Between two showers a cloth of palest gold
Which down he laid before the throne and knelt
Delivering that his lord the vassal king
Was even upon his way to Camelot
For having heard that Arthur of his grace
Had made his goodly cousin Tristram knight
And for himself was of the greater state
Being a king he trusted his liege-lord
Would yield him this large honour all the more
So prayed him well to accept this cloth of gold
In token of true heart and fealty
Then Arthur cried to rend the cloth to rend
In pieces and so cast it on the hearth
An oak-tree smouldered there The goodly knight
What shall the shield of Mark stand among these
For midway down the side of that long hall
A stately pile whereof along the front
Some blazoned some but carven and some blank
There ran a treble range of stony shields 
Rose and high-arching overbrowed the hearth
And under every shield a knight was named
For this was Arthur custom in his hall
When some good knight had done one noble deed
His arms were carven only but if twain
His arms were blazoned also but if none
The shield was blank and bare without a sign
Saving the name beneath and Gareth saw
The shield of Gawain blazoned rich and bright
And Modred blank as death and Arthur cried
To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth
More like are we to reave him of his crown
Than make him knight because men call him king
The kings we found ye know we stayed their hands
From war among themselves but left them kings
Of whom were any bounteous merciful
Truth-speaking brave good livers them we enrolled
Among us and they sit within our hall
But as Mark hath tarnished the great name of king
As Mark would sully the low state of churl
And seeing he hath sent us cloth of gold
Return and meet and hold him from our eyes
Lest we should lap him up in cloth of lead
Silenced for ever craven a man of plots
Craft poisonous counsels wayside ambushings 
No fault of thine let Kay the seneschal
Look to thy wants and send thee satisfied 
Accursed who strikes nor lets the hand be seen
And many another suppliant crying came
With noise of ravage wrought by beast and man
And evermore a knight would ride away
Last Gareth leaning both hands heavily
Down on the shoulders of the twain his men
Approached between them toward the King and asked
A boon Sir King his voice was all ashamed
For see ye not how weak and hungerworn
I seem leaning on these grant me to serve
For meat and drink among thy kitchen-knaves
A twelvemonth and a day nor seek my name
A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon
But so thou wilt no goodlier then must Kay
The master of the meats and drinks be thine
He rose and past then Kay a man of mien
Wan-sallow as the plant that feels itself
This fellow hath broken from some Abbey where
God wot he had not beef and brewis enow
However that might chance but an he work
Like any pigeon will I cram his crop
And sleeker shall he shine than any hog
Then Lancelot standing near Sir Seneschal
Sleuth-hound thou knowest and gray and all the hounds
A horse thou knowest a man thou dost not know
Broad brows and fair a fluent hair and fine
High nose a nostril large and fine and hands
Large fair and fine Some young lad mystery 
But or from sheepcot or king hall the boy
Is noble-natured Treat him with all grace
Lest he should come to shame thy judging of him
Then Kay What murmurest thou of mystery
Think ye this fellow will poison the King dish
Nay for he spake too fool-like mystery
Tut an the lad were noble he had asked
For horse and armour fair and fine forsooth
Sir Fine-face Sir Fair-hands but see thou to it
That thine own fineness Lancelot some fine day
Undo thee not and leave my man to me
So Gareth all for glory underwent
The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage
Ate with young lads his portion by the door
And couched at night with grimy kitchen-knaves
And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly
But Kay the seneschal who loved him not
Would hustle and harry him and labour him
Beyond his comrade of the hearth and set
To turn the broach draw water or hew wood
Or grosser tasks and Gareth bowed himself
With all obedience to the King and wrought
All kind of service with a noble ease
That graced the lowliest act in doing it
And when the thralls had talk among themselves
And one would praise the love that linkt the King
And Lancelot how the King had saved his life
In battle twice and Lancelot once the King 
For Lancelot was the first in Tournament
But Arthur mightiest on the battle-field 
Gareth was glad Or if some other told
How once the wandering forester at dawn
Far over the blue tarns and hazy seas
On Caer-Eryri highest found the King
A naked babe of whom the Prophet spake
He passes to the Isle Avilion
He passes and is healed and cannot die 
Gareth was glad But if their talk were foul
Then would he whistle rapid as any lark
Or carol some old roundelay and so loud
That first they mocked but after reverenced him
Or Gareth telling some prodigious tale
Of knights who sliced a red life-bubbling way
Through twenty folds of twisted dragon held
All in a gap-mouthed circle his good mates
Lying or sitting round him idle hands
Charmed till Sir Kay the seneschal would come
Blustering upon them like a sudden wind
Among dead leaves and drive them all apart
Or when the thralls had sport among themselves
So there were any trial of mastery
He by two yards in casting bar or stone
Was counted best and if there chanced a joust
So that Sir Kay nodded him leave to go
Would hurry thither and when he saw the knights
Clash like the coming and retiring wave
And the spear spring and good horse reel the boy
Was half beyond himself for ecstasy
So for a month he wrought among the thralls
But in the weeks that followed the good Queen
Repentant of the word she made him swear
And saddening in her childless castle sent
Between the in-crescent and de-crescent moon
Arms for her son and loosed him from his vow
This Gareth hearing from a squire of Lot
With whom he used to play at tourney once
When both were children and in lonely haunts
Would scratch a ragged oval on the sand
And each at either dash from either end 
Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy
He laughed he sprang Out of the smoke at once
I leap from Satan foot to Peter knee 
These news be mine none other nay the King 
Descend into the city whereon he sought
The King alone and found and told him all
I have staggered thy strong Gawain in a tilt
For pastime yea he said it joust can I
Make me thy knight in secret let my name
Be hidden and give me the first quest I spring
Fell on and checked and made him flush and bow
Lowly to kiss his hand who answered him
Son the good mother let me know thee here
And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine
Make thee my knight my knights are sworn to vows
Of utter hardihood utter gentleness
And loving utter faithfulness in love
And uttermost obedience to the King
Then Gareth lightly springing from his knees
My King for hardihood I can promise thee
For uttermost obedience make demand
Of whom ye gave me to the Seneschal
No mellow master of the meats and drinks
But wherefore would ye men should wonder at you
Nay rather for the sake of me their King
Have I not earned my cake in baking of it
Let be my name until I make my name
My deeds will speak it is but for a day
So with a kindly hand on Gareth arm
Smiled the great King and half-unwillingly
Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him
Then after summoning Lancelot privily
I have given him the first quest he is not proven
Look therefore when he calls for this in hall
Thou get to horse and follow him far away
Cover the lions on thy shield and see
Far as thou mayest he be nor ta'en nor slain
Then that same day there past into the hall
A damsel of high lineage and a brow
May-blossom and a cheek of apple-blossom
Hawk-eyes and lightly was her slender nose
Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower
She into hall past with her page and cried
O King for thou hast driven the foe without
See to the foe within bridge ford beset
By bandits everyone that owns a tower
The Lord for half a league Why sit ye there
Rest would I not Sir King an I were king
Till even the lonest hold were all as free
From cursed bloodshed as thine altar-cloth
From that best blood it is a sin to spill
Comfort thyself said Arthur I nor mine
Rest so my knighthood keep the vows they swore
The wastest moorland of our realm shall be
Safe damsel as the centre of this hall
Lynette my name noble my need a knight
To combat for my sister Lyonors
A lady of high lineage of great lands
And comely yea and comelier than myself
She lives in Castle Perilous a river
Runs in three loops about her living-place
And o'er it are three passings and three knights
Defend the passings brethren and a fourth
And of that four the mightiest holds her stayed
In her own castle and so besieges her
To break her will and make her wed with him
And but delays his purport till thou send
To do the battle with him thy chief man
Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to overthrow
Then wed with glory but she will not wed
Save whom she loveth or a holy life
Now therefore have I come for Lancelot
Then Arthur mindful of Sir Gareth asked
Damsel ye know this Order lives to crush
All wrongers of the Realm But say these four
Who be they What the fashion of the men
They be of foolish fashion O Sir King
The fashion of that old knight-errantry
Who ride abroad and do but what they will
Courteous or bestial from the moment such
As have nor law nor king and three of these
Proud in their fantasy call themselves the Day
Morning-Star and Noon-Sun and Evening-Star
Being strong fools and never a whit more wise
The fourth who alway rideth armed in black
A huge man-beast of boundless savagery
He names himself the Night and oftener Death
And wears a helmet mounted with a skull
And bears a skeleton figured on his arms
To show that who may slay or scape the three
Slain by himself shall enter endless night
And all these four be fools but mighty men
And therefore am I come for Lancelot
Hereat Sir Gareth called from where he rose
A head with kindling eyes above the throng
A boon Sir King this quest then for he marked
Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull 
Yea King thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I
And mighty through thy meats and drinks am I
And I can topple over a hundred such
Thy promise King and Arthur glancing at him
Brought down a momentary brow Rough sudden
And pardonable worthy to be knight 
Go therefore and all hearers were amazed
But on the damsel forehead shame pride wrath
Slew the May-white she lifted either arm
Fie on thee King I asked for thy chief knight
And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave
Then ere a man in hall could stay her turned
Fled down the lane of access to the King
Took horse descended the slope street and past
The weird white gate and paused without beside
The field of tourney murmuring kitchen-knave
Now two great entries opened from the hall
At one end one that gave upon a range
Of level pavement where the King would pace
At sunrise gazing over plain and wood
And down from this a lordly stairway sloped
Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers
And out by this main doorway past the King
But one was counter to the hearth and rose
High that the highest-crested helm could ride
Therethrough nor graze and by this entry fled
The damsel in her wrath and on to this
Sir Gareth strode and saw without the door
King Arthur gift the worth of half a town
A warhorse of the best and near it stood
The two that out of north had followed him
This bare a maiden shield a casque that held
The horse the spear whereat Sir Gareth loosed
A cloak that dropt from collar-bone to heel
A cloth of roughest web and cast it down
And from it like a fuel-smothered fire
That lookt half-dead brake bright and flashed as those
Dull-coated things that making slide apart
Their dusk wing-cases all beneath there burns
A jewelled harness ere they pass and fly
So Gareth ere he parted flashed in arms
Then as he donned the helm and took the shield
And mounted horse and graspt a spear of grain
Storm-strengthened on a windy site and tipt
With trenchant steel around him slowly prest
The people while from out of kitchen came
The thralls in throng and seeing who had worked
Lustier than any and whom they could but love
Mounted in arms threw up their caps and cried
God bless the King and all his fellowship
And on through lanes of shouting Gareth rode
Down the slope street and past without the gate
So Gareth past with joy but as the cur
Pluckt from the cur he fights with ere his cause
Be cooled by fighting follows being named
His owner but remembers all and growls
Remembering so Sir Kay beside the door
Muttered in scorn of Gareth whom he used
With horse and arms the King hath past his time 
My scullion knave Thralls to your work again
For an your fire be low ye kindle mine
Will there be dawn in West and eve in East
Begone my knave belike and like enow
Some old head-blow not heeded in his youth
So shook his wits they wander in his prime 
Crazed How the villain lifted up his voice
Nor shamed to bawl himself a kitchen-knave
Tut he was tame and meek enow with me
Till peacocked up with Lancelot noticing
Well I will after my loud knave and learn
Whether he know me for his master yet
Out of the smoke he came and so my lance
Hold by God grace he shall into the mire 
Thence if the King awaken from his craze
Kay wherefore wilt thou go against the King
For that did never he whereon ye rail
But ever meekly served the King in thee
Abide take counsel for this lad is great
And lusty and knowing both of lance and sword
Tut tell not me said Kay ye are overfine
To mar stout knaves with foolish courtesies
Then mounted on through silent faces rode
Down the slope city and out beyond the gate
But by the field of tourney lingering yet
Muttered the damsel Wherefore did the King
Scorn me for were Sir Lancelot lackt at least
He might have yielded to me one of those
Who tilt for lady love and glory here
Rather than O sweet heaven O fie upon him 
And there were none but few goodlier than he
Shining in arms Damsel the quest is mine
Lead and I follow She thereat as one
That smells a foul-fleshed agaric in the holt
And deems it carrion of some woodland thing
Or shrew or weasel nipt her slender nose
With petulant thumb and finger shrilling Hence
Avoid thou smellest all of kitchen-grease
And look who comes behind for there was Kay
Knowest thou not me thy master I am Kay
Master no more too well I know thee ay 
The most ungentle knight in Arthur hall
Have at thee then said Kay they shocked and Kay
Fell shoulder-slipt and Gareth cried again
Lead and I follow and fast away she fled
But after sod and shingle ceased to fly
Behind her and the heart of her good horse
Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat
Perforce she stayed and overtaken spoke
What doest thou scullion in my fellowship
Deem'st thou that I accept thee aught the more
Or love thee better that by some device
Full cowardly or by mere unhappiness
Thou hast overthrown and slain thy master thou 
Dish-washer and broach-turner loon to me
Thou smellest all of kitchen as before
Damsel Sir Gareth answered gently say
Whate'er ye will but whatsoe'er ye say
I leave not till I finish this fair quest
Sweet lord how like a noble knight he talks
The listening rogue hath caught the manner of it
But knave anon thou shalt be met with knave
And then by such a one that thou for all
The kitchen brewis that was ever supt
Shalt not once dare to look him in the face
I shall assay said Gareth with a smile
That maddened her and away she flashed again
Down the long avenues of a boundless wood
And Gareth following was again beknaved
Sir Kitchen-knave I have missed the only way
Where Arthur men are set along the wood
The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves
If both be slain I am rid of thee but yet
Sir Scullion canst thou use that spit of thine
Fight an thou canst I have missed the only way
So till the dusk that followed evensong
Rode on the two reviler and reviled
Then after one long slope was mounted saw
Bowl-shaped through tops of many thousand pines
A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink
To westward in the deeps whereof a mere
Round as the red eye of an Eagle-owl
Under the half-dead sunset glared and shouts
Ascended and there brake a servingman
Flying from out of the black wood and crying
They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere
Then Gareth Bound am I to right the wronged
But straitlier bound am I to bide with thee
And when the damsel spake contemptuously
Lead and I follow Gareth cried again
Follow I lead so down among the pines
He plunged and there blackshadowed nigh the mere
And mid-thigh-deep in bulrushes and reed
Saw six tall men haling a seventh along
A stone about his neck to drown him in it
Three with good blows he quieted but three
Fled through the pines and Gareth loosed the stone
From off his neck then in the mere beside
Tumbled it oilily bubbled up the mere
Last Gareth loosed his bonds and on free feet
Set him a stalwart Baron Arthur friend
Well that ye came or else these caitiff rogues
Had wreaked themselves on me good cause is theirs
To hate me for my wont hath ever been
To catch my thief and then like vermin here
Drown him and with a stone about his neck
And under this wan water many of them
Lie rotting but at night let go the stone
And rise and flickering in a grimly light
Dance on the mere Good now ye have saved a life
Worth somewhat as the cleanser of this wood
And fain would I reward thee worshipfully
None for the deed sake have I done the deed
In uttermost obedience to the King
But wilt thou yield this damsel harbourage
Whereat the Baron saying I well believe
You be of Arthur Table a light laugh
Broke from Lynette Ay truly of a truth
And in a sort being Arthur kitchen-knave 
But deem not I accept thee aught the more
Scullion for running sharply with thy spit
Down on a rout of craven foresters
A thresher with his flail had scattered them
Nay for thou smellest of the kitchen still
But an this lord will yield us harbourage
All in a full-fair manor and a rich
His towers where that day a feast had been
Held in high hall and many a viand left
And many a costly cate received the three
And there they placed a peacock in his pride
Before the damsel and the Baron set
Gareth beside her but at once she rose
Meseems that here is much discourtesy
Setting this knave Lord Baron at my side
Hear me this morn I stood in Arthur hall
And prayed the King would grant me Lancelot
To fight the brotherhood of Day and Night 
The last a monster unsubduable
Of any save of him for whom I called 
Suddenly bawls this frontless kitchen-knave
'The quest is mine thy kitchen-knave am I
And mighty through thy meats and drinks am I
Then Arthur all at once gone mad replies
'Go therefore' and so gives the quest to him 
Him here a villain fitter to stick swine
Than ride abroad redressing women wrong
Or sit beside a noble gentlewoman
Then half-ashamed and part-amazed the lord
Now looked at one and now at other left
The damsel by the peacock in his pride
And seating Gareth at another board
Sat down beside him ate and then began
Friend whether thou be kitchen-knave or not
Or whether it be the maiden fantasy
And whether she be mad or else the King
Or both or neither or thyself be mad
I ask not but thou strikest a strong stroke
For strong thou art and goodly therewithal
And saver of my life and therefore now
For here be mighty men to joust with weigh
Whether thou wilt not with thy damsel back
To crave again Sir Lancelot of the King
Thy pardon I but speak for thine avail
Full pardon but I follow up the quest
Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell
So when next morn the lord whose life he saved
Had some brief space conveyed them on their way
And left them with God-speed Sir Gareth spake
Lead and I follow Haughtily she replied
I fly no more I allow thee for an hour
Lion and stout have isled together knave
In time of flood Nay furthermore methinks
Some ruth is mine for thee Back wilt thou fool
For hard by here is one will overthrow
And slay thee then will I to court again
And shame the King for only yielding me
My champion from the ashes of his hearth
To whom Sir Gareth answered courteously
Say thou thy say and I will do my deed
Allow me for mine hour and thou wilt find
My fortunes all as fair as hers who lay
Among the ashes and wedded the King son
Then to the shore of one of those long loops
Wherethrough the serpent river coiled they came
Rough-thicketed were the banks and steep the stream
Full narrow this a bridge of single arc
Took at a leap and on the further side
Arose a silk pavilion gay with gold
In streaks and rays and all Lent-lily in hue
Save that the dome was purple and above
Crimson a slender banneret fluttering
And therebefore the lawless warrior paced
Unarmed and calling Damsel is this he
The champion thou hast brought from Arthur hall
For whom we let thee pass Nay nay she said
Sir Morning-Star The King in utter scorn
Of thee and thy much folly hath sent thee here
His kitchen-knave and look thou to thyself
See that he fall not on thee suddenly
And slay thee unarmed he is not knight but knave
Then at his call O daughters of the Dawn
And servants of the Morning-Star approach
Arm me from out the silken curtain-folds
Bare-footed and bare-headed three fair girls
In gilt and rosy raiment came their feet
In dewy grasses glistened and the hair
All over glanced with dewdrop or with gem
Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine
These armed him in blue arms and gave a shield
Blue also and thereon the morning star
And Gareth silent gazed upon the knight
Who stood a moment ere his horse was brought
Glorying and in the stream beneath him shone
Immingled with Heaven azure waveringly
The gay pavilion and the naked feet
His arms the rosy raiment and the star
Then she that watched him Wherefore stare ye so
Thou shakest in thy fear there yet is time
Flee down the valley before he get to horse
Who will cry shame Thou art not knight but knave
Said Gareth Damsel whether knave or knight
Far liefer had I fight a score of times
Than hear thee so missay me and revile
Fair words were best for him who fights for thee
But truly foul are better for they send
That strength of anger through mine arms I know
The star when mounted cried from o'er the bridge
A kitchen-knave and sent in scorn of me
Such fight not I but answer scorn with scorn
For this were shame to do him further wrong
Than set him on his feet and take his horse
And arms and so return him to the King
Come therefore leave thy lady lightly knave
Avoid for it beseemeth not a knave
I spring from loftier lineage than thine own
He spake and all at fiery speed the two
Shocked on the central bridge and either spear
Bent but not brake and either knight at once
Hurled as a stone from out of a catapult
Beyond his horse crupper and the bridge
Fell as if dead but quickly rose and drew
And Gareth lashed so fiercely with his brand
He drave his enemy backward down the bridge
The damsel crying Well-stricken kitchen-knave
Till Gareth shield was cloven but one stroke
Laid him that clove it grovelling on the ground
Then cried the fallen Take not my life I yield
And Gareth So this damsel ask it of me
Good I accord it easily as a grace
She reddening Insolent scullion I of thee
I bound to thee for any favour asked
Then he shall die And Gareth there unlaced
His helmet as to slay him but she shrieked
Be not so hardy scullion as to slay
One nobler than thyself Damsel thy charge
Is an abounding pleasure to me Knight
Thy life is thine at her command Arise
And quickly pass to Arthur hall and say
His kitchen-knave hath sent thee See thou crave
His pardon for thy breaking of his laws
Myself when I return will plead for thee
Thy shield is mine farewell and damsel thou
Then when he came upon her spake Methought
Knave when I watched thee striking on the bridge
The savour of thy kitchen came upon me
A little faintlier but the wind hath changed
I scent it twenty-fold And then she sang
'O morning star' not that tall felon there
Whom thou by sorcery or unhappiness
Or some device hast foully overthrown
'O morning star that smilest in the blue
O star my morning dream hath proven true
Smile sweetly thou my love hath smiled on me
But thou begone take counsel and away
For hard by here is one that guards a ford 
The second brother in their fool parable 
Will pay thee all thy wages and to boot
Care not for shame thou art not knight but knave
To whom Sir Gareth answered laughingly
Parables Hear a parable of the knave
When I was kitchen-knave among the rest
Fierce was the hearth and one of my co-mates
Owned a rough dog to whom he cast his coat
'Guard it' and there was none to meddle with it
And such a coat art thou and thee the King
Gave me to guard and such a dog am I
To worry and not to flee and knight or knave 
The knave that doth thee service as full knight
Is all as good meseems as any knight
Ay knave because thou strikest as a knight
Being but knave I hate thee all the more
Fair damsel you should worship me the more
That being but knave I throw thine enemies
Ay ay she said but thou shalt meet thy match
So when they touched the second river-loop
Huge on a huge red horse and all in mail
Burnished to blinding shone the Noonday Sun
Beyond a raging shallow As if the flower
That blows a globe of after arrowlets
Ten thousand-fold had grown flashed the fierce shield
All sun and Gareth eyes had flying blots
Before them when he turned from watching him
He from beyond the roaring shallow roared
What doest thou brother in my marches here
And she athwart the shallow shrilled again
Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur hall
Hath overthrown thy brother and hath his arms
Ugh cried the Sun and vizoring up a red
And cipher face of rounded foolishness
Pushed horse across the foamings of the ford
Whom Gareth met midstream no room was there
For lance or tourney-skill four strokes they struck
With sword and these were mighty the new knight
Had fear he might be shamed but as the Sun
Heaved up a ponderous arm to strike the fifth
The hoof of his horse slipt in the stream the stream
Descended and the Sun was washed away
Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the ford
So drew him home but he that fought no more
As being all bone-battered on the rock
Yielded and Gareth sent him to the King
Myself when I return will plead for thee
Lead and I follow Quietly she led
Hath not the good wind damsel changed again
Nay not a point nor art thou victor here
There lies a ridge of slate across the ford
His horse thereon stumbled ay for I saw it
'O Sun' not this strong fool whom thou Sir Knave
Hast overthrown through mere unhappiness
'O Sun that wakenest all to bliss or pain
O moon that layest all to sleep again
Shine sweetly twice my love hath smiled on me
What knowest thou of lovesong or of love
Nay nay God wot so thou wert nobly born
Thou hast a pleasant presence Yea perchance 
'O dewy flowers that open to the sun
O dewy flowers that close when day is done
Blow sweetly twice my love hath smiled on me
What knowest thou of flowers except belike
To garnish meats with hath not our good King
Who lent me thee the flower of kitchendom
A foolish love for flowers what stick ye round
The pasty wherewithal deck the boar head
Flowers nay the boar hath rosemaries and bay
'O birds that warble to the morning sky
O birds that warble as the day goes by
Sing sweetly twice my love hath smiled on me
What knowest thou of birds lark mavis merle
Linnet what dream ye when they utter forth
May-music growing with the growing light
Their sweet sun-worship these be for the snare
So runs thy fancy these be for the spit
Larding and basting See thou have not now
Larded thy last except thou turn and fly
There stands the third fool of their allegory
For there beyond a bridge of treble bow
All in a rose-red from the west and all
Naked it seemed and glowing in the broad
Deep-dimpled current underneath the knight
That named himself the Star of Evening stood
And Gareth Wherefore waits the madman there
Naked in open dayshine Nay she cried
Not naked only wrapt in hardened skins
That fit him like his own and so ye cleave
His armour off him these will turn the blade
Then the third brother shouted o'er the bridge
O brother-star why shine ye here so low
Thy ward is higher up but have ye slain
The damsel champion and the damsel cried
No star of thine but shot from Arthur heaven
With all disaster unto thine and thee
For both thy younger brethren have gone down
Before this youth and so wilt thou Sir Star
Old with the might and breath of twenty boys
Said Gareth Old and over-bold in brag
But that same strength which threw the Morning Star
A hard and deadly note upon the horn
Approach and arm me With slow steps from out
An old storm-beaten russet many-stained
Pavilion forth a grizzled damsel came
And armed him in old arms and brought a helm
With but a drying evergreen for crest
And gave a shield whereon the Star of Even
Half-tarnished and half-bright his emblem shone
But when it glittered o'er the saddle-bow
They madly hurled together on the bridge
And Gareth overthrew him lighted drew
There met him drawn and overthrew him again
But up like fire he started and as oft
As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees
So many a time he vaulted up again
Till Gareth panted hard and his great heart
Foredooming all his trouble was in vain
Laboured within him for he seemed as one
That all in later sadder age begins
To war against ill uses of a life
But these from all his life arise and cry
Thou hast made us lords and canst not put us down
He half despairs so Gareth seemed to strike
Vainly the damsel clamouring all the while
Well done knave-knight well-stricken O good knight-knave 
O knave as noble as any of all the knights 
Shame me not shame me not I have prophesied 
Strike thou art worthy of the Table Round 
His arms are old he trusts the hardened skin 
Strike strike the wind will never change again
And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote
And hewed great pieces of his armour off him
But lashed in vain against the hardened skin
And could not wholly bring him under more
Than loud Southwesterns rolling ridge on ridge
The buoy that rides at sea and dips and springs
For ever till at length Sir Gareth brand
Clashed his and brake it utterly to the hilt
I have thee now but forth that other sprang
And all unknightlike writhed his wiry arms
Around him till he felt despite his mail
Strangled but straining even his uttermost
Cast and so hurled him headlong o'er the bridge
I lead no longer ride thou at my side
Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen-knaves
'O trefoil sparkling on the rainy plain
O rainbow with three colours after rain
Shine sweetly thrice my love hath smiled on me
Sir and good faith I fain had added Knight
But that I heard thee call thyself a knave 
Shamed am I that I so rebuked reviled
Missaid thee noble I am and thought the King
Scorned me and mine and now thy pardon friend
For thou hast ever answered courteously
And wholly bold thou art and meek withal
As any of Arthur best but being knave
Hast mazed my wit I marvel what thou art
Damsel he said you be not all to blame
Saving that you mistrusted our good King
Would handle scorn or yield you asking one
Not fit to cope your quest You said your say
Mine answer was my deed Good sooth I hold
He scarce is knight yea but half-man nor meet
To fight for gentle damsel he who lets
His heart be stirred with any foolish heat
At any gentle damsel waywardness
Shamed care not thy foul sayings fought for me
And seeing now thy words are fair methinks
There rides no knight not Lancelot his great self
When the lone hern forgets his melancholy
Lets down his other leg and stretching dreams
Of goodly supper in the distant pool
Then turned the noble damsel smiling at him
And told him of a cavern hard at hand
Where bread and baken meats and good red wine
Of Southland which the Lady Lyonors
Had sent her coming champion waited him
Anon they past a narrow comb wherein
Where slabs of rock with figures knights on horse
Sculptured and deckt in slowly-waning hues
Sir Knave my knight a hermit once was here
Whose holy hand hath fashioned on the rock
The war of Time against the soul of man
And yon four fools have sucked their allegory
From these damp walls and taken but the form
Know ye not these and Gareth lookt and read 
In letters like to those the vexillary
Hath left crag-carven o'er the streaming Gelt 
PHOSPHORUS then MERIDIES HESPERUS 
NOX MORS beneath five figures armed men
Slab after slab their faces forward all
And running down the Soul a Shape that fled
With broken wings torn raiment and loose hair
For help and shelter to the hermit cave
Follow the faces and we find it Look
Through helping back the dislocated Kay
To Camelot then by what thereafter chanced
The damsel headlong error through the wood 
Sir Lancelot having swum the river-loops 
His blue shield-lions covered softly drew
Behind the twain and when he saw the star
Gleam on Sir Gareth turning to him cried
Stay felon knight I avenge me for my friend
And Gareth crying pricked against the cry
But when they closed in a moment at one touch
Of that skilled spear the wonder of the world 
Went sliding down so easily and fell
That when he found the grass within his hands
He laughed the laughter jarred upon Lynette
Harshly she asked him Shamed and overthrown
And tumbled back into the kitchen-knave
Why laugh ye that ye blew your boast in vain
Nay noble damsel but that I the son
Of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent
And victor of the bridges and the ford
And knight of Arthur here lie thrown by whom
I know not all through mere unhappiness 
Device and sorcery and unhappiness 
Out sword we are thrown And Lancelot answered Prince
O Gareth through the mere unhappiness
Of one who came to help thee not to harm
Lancelot and all as glad to find thee whole
As on the day when Arthur knighted him
Then Gareth Thou Lancelot thine the hand
That threw me An some chance to mar the boast
Thy brethren of thee make which could not chance 
Had sent thee down before a lesser spear
Shamed had I been and sad O Lancelot thou
Whereat the maiden petulant Lancelot
Why came ye not when called and wherefore now
Come ye not called I gloried in my knave
Who being still rebuked would answer still
Courteous as any knight but now if knight
The marvel dies and leaves me fooled and tricked
And only wondering wherefore played upon
And doubtful whether I and mine be scorned
Where should be truth if not in Arthur hall
In Arthur presence Knight knave prince and fool
Blessed be thou Sir Gareth knight art thou
To the King best wish O damsel be you wise
To call him shamed who is but overthrown
Thrown have I been nor once but many a time
Victor from vanquished issues at the last
And overthrower from being overthrown
With sword we have not striven and thy good horse
And thou are weary yet not less I felt
Thy manhood through that wearied lance of thine
Well hast thou done for all the stream is freed
And thou hast wreaked his justice on his foes
And when reviled hast answered graciously
And makest merry when overthrown Prince Knight
Hail Knight and Prince and of our Table Round
And then when turning to Lynette he told
The tale of Gareth petulantly she said
Ay well ay well for worse than being fooled
Of others is to fool one self A cave
Sir Lancelot is hard by with meats and drinks
And forage for the horse and flint for fire
But all about it flies a honeysuckle
Seek till we find And when they sought and found
Sir Gareth drank and ate and all his life
Past into sleep on whom the maiden gazed
Sound sleep be thine sound cause to sleep hast thou
Wake lusty Seem I not as tender to him
As any mother Ay but such a one
As all day long hath rated at her child
And vext his day but blesses him asleep 
Good lord how sweetly smells the honeysuckle
In the hushed night as if the world were one
Of utter peace and love and gentleness
O Lancelot Lancelot and she clapt her hands 
Full merry am I to find my goodly knave
Is knight and noble See now sworn have I
Else yon black felon had not let me pass
To bring thee back to do the battle with him
Thus an thou goest he will fight thee first
Who doubts thee victor so will my knight-knave
Miss the full flower of this accomplishment
Said Lancelot Peradventure he you name
May know my shield Let Gareth an he will
Change his for mine and take my charger fresh
Not to be spurred loving the battle as well
As he that rides him Lancelot-like she said
Courteous in this Lord Lancelot as in all
And Gareth wakening fiercely clutched the shield
Ramp ye lance-splintering lions on whom all spears
Are rotten sticks ye seem agape to roar
Yea ramp and roar at leaving of your lord 
Care not good beasts so well I care for you
O noble Lancelot from my hold on these
Streams virtue fire through one that will not shame
Even the shadow of Lancelot under shield
They traversed Arthur harp though summer-wan
In counter motion to the clouds allured
The glance of Gareth dreaming on his liege
A star shot Lo said Gareth the foe falls
An owl whoopt Hark the victor pealing there
Suddenly she that rode upon his left
Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him crying
Yield yield him this again 'tis he must fight
I curse the tongue that all through yesterday
Reviled thee and hath wrought on Lancelot now
To lend thee horse and shield wonders ye have done
Miracles ye cannot here is glory enow
In having flung the three I see thee maimed
Mangled I swear thou canst not fling the fourth
And wherefore damsel tell me all ye know
You cannot scare me nor rough face or voice
Brute bulk of limb or boundless savagery
God wot I never looked upon the face
Seeing he never rides abroad by day
But watched him have I like a phantom pass
Chilling the night nor have I heard the voice
Always he made his mouthpiece of a page
Who came and went and still reported him
As closing in himself the strength of ten
And when his anger tare him massacring
Man woman lad and girl yea the soft babe
Some hold that he hath swallowed infant flesh
Monster O Prince I went for Lancelot first
The quest is Lancelot give him back the shield
Said Gareth laughing An he fight for this
Belike he wins it as the better man
All the devisings of their chivalry
When one might meet a mightier than himself
How best to manage horse lance sword and shield
And so fill up the gap where force might fail
With skill and fineness Instant were his words
Then Gareth Here be rules I know but one 
To dash against mine enemy and win
Yet have I seen thee victor in the joust
And seen thy way Heaven help thee sighed Lynette
Then for a space and under cloud that grew
To thunder-gloom palling all stars they rode
In converse till she made her palfrey halt
Lifted an arm and softly whispered There
And all the three were silent seeing pitched
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field
A huge pavilion like a mountain peak
Sunder the glooming crimson on the marge
Black with black banner and a long black horn
Beside it hanging which Sir Gareth graspt
And so before the two could hinder him
Sent all his heart and breath through all the horn
Echoed the walls a light twinkled anon
Came lights and lights and once again he blew
Whereon were hollow tramplings up and down
And muffled voices heard and shadows past
Till high above him circled with her maids
The Lady Lyonors at a window stood
Beautiful among lights and waving to him
White hands and courtesy but when the Prince
Three times had blown after long hush at last 
The huge pavilion slowly yielded up
Through those black foldings that which housed therein
High on a nightblack horse in nightblack arms
With white breast-bone and barren ribs of Death
And crowned with fleshless laughter some ten steps 
In the half-light through the dim dawn advanced
The monster and then paused and spake no word
But Gareth spake and all indignantly
Fool for thou hast men say the strength of ten
Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given
But must to make the terror of thee more
Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries
Of that which Life hath done with and the clod
Less dull than thou will hide with mantling flowers
As if for pity But he spake no word
Which set the horror higher a maiden swooned
The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept
As doomed to be the bride of Night and Death
Sir Gareth head prickled beneath his helm
And even Sir Lancelot through his warm blood felt
Ice strike and all that marked him were aghast
At once Sir Lancelot charger fiercely neighed
And Death dark war-horse bounded forward with him
Then those that did not blink the terror saw
That Death was cast to ground and slowly rose
But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull
Half fell to right and half to left and lay
Then with a stronger buffet he clove the helm
As throughly as the skull and out from this
Issued the bright face of a blooming boy
Fresh as a flower new-born and crying Knight
Slay me not my three brethren bad me do it
To make a horror all about the house
And stay the world from Lady Lyonors
They never dreamed the passes would be past
Answered Sir Gareth graciously to one
Not many a moon his younger My fair child
What madness made thee challenge the chief knight
Of Arthur hall Fair Sir they bad me do it
They hate the King and Lancelot the King friend
They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream
They never dreamed the passes could be past
Then sprang the happier day from underground
And Lady Lyonors and her house with dance
And revel and song made merry over Death
As being after all their foolish fears
And horrors only proven a blooming boy
So large mirth lived and Gareth won the quest
And he that told the tale in older times
Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors
But he that told it later says Lynette
The brave Geraint a knight of Arthur court
A tributary prince of Devon one
Of that great Order of the Table Round
Had married Enid Yniol only child
And loved her as he loved the light of Heaven
And as the light of Heaven varies now
At sunrise now at sunset now by night
With moon and trembling stars so loved Geraint
To make her beauty vary day by day
In crimsons and in purples and in gems
And Enid but to please her husband eye
Who first had found and loved her in a state
Of broken fortunes daily fronted him
In some fresh splendour and the Queen herself
Grateful to Prince Geraint for service done
Loved her and often with her own white hands
Arrayed and decked her as the loveliest
Next after her own self in all the court
And Enid loved the Queen and with true heart
Adored her as the stateliest and the best
And loveliest of all women upon earth
And seeing them so tender and so close
Long in their common love rejoiced Geraint
But when a rumour rose about the Queen
Touching her guilty love for Lancelot
Though yet there lived no proof nor yet was heard
The world loud whisper breaking into storm
Not less Geraint believed it and there fell
A horror on him lest his gentle wife
Through that great tenderness for Guinevere
Had suffered or should suffer any taint
In nature wherefore going to the King
He made this pretext that his princedom lay
Close on the borders of a territory
Wherein were bandit earls and caitiff knights
Assassins and all flyers from the hand
Of Justice and whatever loathes a law
And therefore till the King himself should please
To cleanse this common sewer of all his realm
He craved a fair permission to depart
And there defend his marches and the King
Mused for a little on his plea but last
Allowing it the Prince and Enid rode
And fifty knights rode with them to the shores
Of Severn and they past to their own land
Where thinking that if ever yet was wife
True to her lord mine shall be so to me
He compassed her with sweet observances
And worship never leaving her and grew
Forgetful of his promise to the King
Forgetful of the falcon and the hunt
Forgetful of the tilt and tournament
Forgetful of his glory and his name
Forgetful of his princedom and its cares
And this forgetfulness was hateful to her
And by and by the people when they met
In twos and threes or fuller companies
Began to scoff and jeer and babble of him
As of a prince whose manhood was all gone
And molten down in mere uxoriousness
And this she gathered from the people eyes
This too the women who attired her head
To please her dwelling on his boundless love
Told Enid and they saddened her the more
And day by day she thought to tell Geraint
But could not out of bashful delicacy
While he that watched her sadden was the more
Suspicious that her nature had a taint
At last it chanced that on a summer morn
They sleeping each by either the new sun
Beat through the blindless casement of the room
And heated the strong warrior in his dreams
Who moving cast the coverlet aside
And bared the knotted column of his throat
The massive square of his heroic breast
And arms on which the standing muscle sloped
As slopes a wild brook o'er a little stone
Running too vehemently to break upon it
And Enid woke and sat beside the couch
Admiring him and thought within herself
Was ever man so grandly made as he
Then like a shadow past the people talk
And accusation of uxoriousness
Across her mind and bowing over him
Low to her own heart piteously she said
O noble breast and all-puissant arms
Am I the cause I the poor cause that men
Reproach you saying all your force is gone
I am the cause because I dare not speak
And tell him what I think and what they say
And yet I hate that he should linger here
I cannot love my lord and not his name
Far liefer had I gird his harness on him
And ride with him to battle and stand by
And watch his mightful hand striking great blows
At caitiffs and at wrongers of the world
Far better were I laid in the dark earth
Not hearing any more his noble voice
Not to be folded more in these dear arms
And darkened from the high light in his eyes
Than that my lord through me should suffer shame
Am I so bold and could I so stand by
And see my dear lord wounded in the strife
And maybe pierced to death before mine eyes
And yet not dare to tell him what I think
And how men slur him saying all his force
Is melted into mere effeminacy
O me I fear that I am no true wife
Half inwardly half audibly she spoke
And the strong passion in her made her weep
True tears upon his broad and naked breast
And these awoke him and by great mischance
He heard but fragments of her later words
And that she feared she was not a true wife
And then he thought In spite of all my care
For all my pains poor man for all my pains
She is not faithful to me and I see her
Weeping for some gay knight in Arthur hall
Then though he loved and reverenced her too much
To dream she could be guilty of foul act
Right through his manful breast darted the pang
That makes a man in the sweet face of her
Whom he loves most lonely and miserable
At this he hurled his huge limbs out of bed
And shook his drowsy squire awake and cried
My charger and her palfrey then to her
I will ride forth into the wilderness
For though it seems my spurs are yet to win
I have not fallen so low as some would wish
And thou put on thy worst and meanest dress
And ride with me And Enid asked amazed
If Enid errs let Enid learn her fault
But he I charge thee ask not but obey
Then she bethought her of a faded silk
A faded mantle and a faded veil
And moving toward a cedarn cabinet
Wherein she kept them folded reverently
With sprigs of summer laid between the folds
She took them and arrayed herself therein
Remembering when first he came on her
Drest in that dress and how he loved her in it
And all her foolish fears about the dress
And all his journey to her as himself
Had told her and their coming to the court
For Arthur on the Whitsuntide before
Held court at old Caerleon upon Usk
There on a day he sitting high in hall
Before him came a forester of Dean
Wet from the woods with notice of a hart
Taller than all his fellows milky-white
First seen that day these things he told the King
Then the good King gave order to let blow
His horns for hunting on the morrow morn
And when the King petitioned for his leave
To see the hunt allowed it easily
So with the morning all the court were gone
But Guinevere lay late into the morn
Lost in sweet dreams and dreaming of her love
For Lancelot and forgetful of the hunt
But rose at last a single maiden with her
Took horse and forded Usk and gained the wood
There on a little knoll beside it stayed
Waiting to hear the hounds but heard instead
A sudden sound of hoofs for Prince Geraint
Late also wearing neither hunting-dress
Nor weapon save a golden-hilted brand
Came quickly flashing through the shallow ford
Behind them and so galloped up the knoll
A purple scarf at either end whereof
There swung an apple of the purest gold
Swayed round about him as he galloped up
To join them glancing like a dragon-fly
In summer suit and silks of holiday
Low bowed the tributary Prince and she
Sweet and statelily and with all grace
Of womanhood and queenhood answered him
Late late Sir Prince she said later than we
Yea noble Queen he answered and so late
That I but come like you to see the hunt
Not join it Therefore wait with me she said
For on this little knoll if anywhere
There is good chance that we shall hear the hounds
Here often they break covert at our feet
And while they listened for the distant hunt
And chiefly for the baying of Cavall
King Arthur hound of deepest mouth there rode
Full slowly by a knight lady and dwarf
Whereof the dwarf lagged latest and the knight
Had vizor up and showed a youthful face
Imperious and of haughtiest lineaments
And Guinevere not mindful of his face
In the King hall desired his name and sent
Her maiden to demand it of the dwarf
Who being vicious old and irritable
And doubling all his master vice of pride
Made answer sharply that she should not know
Then will I ask it of himself she said
Nay by my faith thou shalt not cried the dwarf
Thou art not worthy even to speak of him
And when she put her horse toward the knight
Struck at her with his whip and she returned
Indignant to the Queen whereat Geraint
Exclaiming Surely I will learn the name
Made sharply to the dwarf and asked it of him
Who answered as before and when the Prince
Had put his horse in motion toward the knight
Struck at him with his whip and cut his cheek
The Prince blood spirted upon the scarf
Dyeing it and his quick instinctive hand
Caught at the hilt as to abolish him
But he from his exceeding manfulness
And pure nobility of temperament
Wroth to be wroth at such a worm refrained
From even a word and so returning said
I will avenge this insult noble Queen
Done in your maiden person to yourself
And I will track this vermin to their earths
For though I ride unarmed I do not doubt
To find at some place I shall come at arms
On loan or else for pledge and being found
Then will I fight him and will break his pride
And on the third day will again be here
So that I be not fallen in fight Farewell
Farewell fair Prince answered the stately Queen
Be prosperous in this journey as in all
And may you light on all things that you love
And live to wed with her whom first you love
But ere you wed with any bring your bride
And I were she the daughter of a king
Yea though she were a beggar from the hedge
Will clothe her for her bridals like the sun
And Prince Geraint now thinking that he heard
The noble hart at bay now the far horn
A little vext at losing of the hunt
A little at the vile occasion rode
By ups and downs through many a grassy glade
And valley with fixt eye following the three
At last they issued from the world of wood
And climbed upon a fair and even ridge
And showed themselves against the sky and sank
And thither there came Geraint and underneath
Beheld the long street of a little town
In a long valley on one side whereof
White from the mason hand a fortress rose
And on one side a castle in decay
Beyond a bridge that spanned a dry ravine
And out of town and valley came a noise
As of a broad brook o'er a shingly bed
Brawling or like a clamour of the rooks
At distance ere they settle for the night
And onward to the fortress rode the three
And entered and were lost behind the walls
So thought Geraint I have tracked him to his earth
And down the long street riding wearily
Found every hostel full and everywhere
Was hammer laid to hoof and the hot hiss
And bustling whistle of the youth who scoured
His master armour and of such a one
He asked What means the tumult in the town
Who told him scouring still The sparrow-hawk
Then riding close behind an ancient churl
Who smitten by the dusty sloping beam
Went sweating underneath a sack of corn
Asked yet once more what meant the hubbub here
Who answered gruffly Ugh the sparrow-hawk
Then riding further past an armourer's
Who with back turned and bowed above his work
Sat riveting a helmet on his knee
He put the self-same query but the man
Not turning round nor looking at him said
Friend he that labours for the sparrow-hawk
Has little time for idle questioners
Whereat Geraint flashed into sudden spleen
A thousand pips eat up your sparrow-hawk
Tits wrens and all winged nothings peck him dead
Ye think the rustic cackle of your bourg
The murmur of the world What is it to me
O wretched set of sparrows one and all
Who pipe of nothing but of sparrow-hawks
Speak if ye be not like the rest hawk-mad
Where can I get me harbourage for the night
And arms arms arms to fight my enemy Speak
Whereat the armourer turning all amazed
And seeing one so gay in purple silks
Came forward with the helmet yet in hand
And answered Pardon me O stranger knight
We hold a tourney here tomorrow morn
And there is scantly time for half the work
Arms truth I know not all are wanted here
Harbourage truth good truth I know not save
It may be at Earl Yniol o'er the bridge
Yonder He spoke and fell to work again
Then rode Geraint a little spleenful yet
Across the bridge that spanned the dry ravine
There musing sat the hoary-headed Earl
His dress a suit of frayed magnificence
Once fit for feasts of ceremony and said
Whither fair son to whom Geraint replied
O friend I seek a harbourage for the night
Then Yniol Enter therefore and partake
The slender entertainment of a house
Once rich now poor but ever open-doored
Thanks venerable friend replied Geraint
So that ye do not serve me sparrow-hawks
For supper I will enter I will eat
With all the passion of a twelve hours' fast
Then sighed and smiled the hoary-headed Earl
And answered Graver cause than yours is mine
To curse this hedgerow thief the sparrow-hawk
But in go in for save yourself desire it
We will not touch upon him even in jest
Then rode Geraint into the castle court
His charger trampling many a prickly star
Of sprouted thistle on the broken stones
He looked and saw that all was ruinous
Here stood a shattered archway plumed with fern
And here had fallen a great part of a tower
Whole like a crag that tumbles from the cliff
And like a crag was gay with wilding flowers
And high above a piece of turret stair
Worn by the feet that now were silent wound
Bare to the sun and monstrous ivy-stems
Claspt the gray walls with hairy-fibred arms
And sucked the joining of the stones and looked
A knot beneath of snakes aloft a grove
And while he waited in the castle court
The voice of Enid Yniol daughter rang
Clear through the open casement of the hall
Singing and as the sweet voice of a bird
Heard by the lander in a lonely isle
Moves him to think what kind of bird it is
That sings so delicately clear and make
Conjecture of the plumage and the form
So the sweet voice of Enid moved Geraint
And made him like a man abroad at morn
When first the liquid note beloved of men
Comes flying over many a windy wave
To Britain and in April suddenly
Breaks from a coppice gemmed with green and red
And he suspends his converse with a friend
Or it may be the labour of his hands
To think or say There is the nightingale
So fared it with Geraint who thought and said
Here by God grace is the one voice for me
It chanced the song that Enid sang was one
Of Fortune and her wheel and Enid sang
Turn Fortune turn thy wheel and lower the proud
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine storm and cloud
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate
Turn Fortune turn thy wheel with smile or frown
With that wild wheel we go not up or down
Our hoard is little but our hearts are great
Smile and we smile the lords of many lands
Frown and we smile the lords of our own hands
For man is man and master of his fate
Turn turn thy wheel above the staring crowd
Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate
Hark by the bird song ye may learn the nest
Said Yniol enter quickly Entering then
Right o'er a mount of newly-fallen stones
The dusky-raftered many-cobwebbed hall
He found an ancient dame in dim brocade
And near her like a blossom vermeil-white
That lightly breaks a faded flower-sheath
Moved the fair Enid all in faded silk
Her daughter In a moment thought Geraint
Here by God rood is the one maid for me
But none spake word except the hoary Earl
Enid the good knight horse stands in the court
Take him to stall and give him corn and then
Go to the town and buy us flesh and wine
And we will make us merry as we may
Our hoard is little but our hearts are great
He spake the Prince as Enid past him fain
To follow strode a stride but Yniol caught
His purple scarf and held and said Forbear
Rest the good house though ruined O my son
Endures not that her guest should serve himself
And reverencing the custom of the house
Geraint from utter courtesy forbore
So Enid took his charger to the stall
And after went her way across the bridge
And reached the town and while the Prince and Earl
Yet spoke together came again with one
A youth that following with a costrel bore
The means of goodly welcome flesh and wine
And Enid brought sweet cakes to make them cheer
And in her veil enfolded manchet bread
And then because their hall must also serve
For kitchen boiled the flesh and spread the board
And stood behind and waited on the three
And seeing her so sweet and serviceable
Geraint had longing in him evermore
To stoop and kiss the tender little thumb
That crost the trencher as she laid it down
But after all had eaten then Geraint
For now the wine made summer in his veins
Let his eye rove in following or rest
On Enid at her lowly handmaid-work
Now here now there about the dusky hall
Then suddenly addrest the hoary Earl
Fair Host and Earl I pray your courtesy
This sparrow-hawk what is he tell me of him
His name but no good faith I will not have it
For if he be the knight whom late I saw
Ride into that new fortress by your town
White from the mason hand then have I sworn
From his own lips to have it I am Geraint
Of Devon for this morning when the Queen
Sent her own maiden to demand the name
His dwarf a vicious under-shapen thing
Struck at her with his whip and she returned
Indignant to the Queen and then I swore
That I would track this caitiff to his hold
And fight and break his pride and have it of him
And all unarmed I rode and thought to find
Arms in your town where all the men are mad
They take the rustic murmur of their bourg
For the great wave that echoes round the world
They would not hear me speak but if ye know
Where I can light on arms or if yourself
Should have them tell me seeing I have sworn
That I will break his pride and learn his name
Avenging this great insult done the Queen
Then cried Earl Yniol Art thou he indeed
Geraint a name far-sounded among men
For noble deeds and truly I when first
I saw you moving by me on the bridge
Felt ye were somewhat yea and by your state
And presence might have guessed you one of those
That eat in Arthur hall in Camelot
Nor speak I now from foolish flattery
For this dear child hath often heard me praise
Your feats of arms and often when I paused
Hath asked again and ever loved to hear
So grateful is the noise of noble deeds
To noble hearts who see but acts of wrong
O never yet had woman such a pair
Of suitors as this maiden first Limours
A creature wholly given to brawls and wine
Drunk even when he wooed and be he dead
I know not but he past to the wild land
The second was your foe the sparrow-hawk
My curse my nephew I will not let his name
Slip from my lips if I can help it he
When that I knew him fierce and turbulent
Refused her to him then his pride awoke
And since the proud man often is the mean
He sowed a slander in the common ear
Affirming that his father left him gold
And in my charge which was not rendered to him
Bribed with large promises the men who served
About my person the more easily
Because my means were somewhat broken into
Through open doors and hospitality
Raised my own town against me in the night
Before my Enid birthday sacked my house
From mine own earldom foully ousted me
Built that new fort to overawe my friends
For truly there are those who love me yet
And keeps me in this ruinous castle here
Where doubtless he would put me soon to death
But that his pride too much despises me
And I myself sometimes despise myself
For I have let men be and have their way
Am much too gentle have not used my power
Nor know I whether I be very base
Or very manful whether very wise
Or very foolish only this I know
That whatsoever evil happen to me
I seem to suffer nothing heart or limb
But can endure it all most patiently
Well said true heart replied Geraint but arms
That if the sparrow-hawk this nephew fight
In next day tourney I may break his pride
And Yniol answered Arms indeed but old
And rusty old and rusty Prince Geraint
Are mine and therefore at thy asking thine
But in this tournament can no man tilt
Except the lady he loves best be there
Two forks are fixt into the meadow ground
And over these is placed a silver wand
And over that a golden sparrow-hawk
The prize of beauty for the fairest there
And this what knight soever be in field
Lays claim to for the lady at his side
And tilts with my good nephew thereupon
Who being apt at arms and big of bone
Has ever won it for the lady with him
And toppling over all antagonism
Has earned himself the name of sparrow-hawk
But thou that hast no lady canst not fight
To whom Geraint with eyes all bright replied
Leaning a little toward him Thy leave
Let me lay lance in rest O noble host
For this dear child because I never saw
Though having seen all beauties of our time
Nor can see elsewhere anything so fair
And if I fall her name will yet remain
Untarnished as before but if I live
So aid me Heaven when at mine uttermost
As I will make her truly my true wife
Then howsoever patient Yniol heart
Danced in his bosom seeing better days
And looking round he saw not Enid there
Who hearing her own name had stolen away
But that old dame to whom full tenderly
And folding all her hand in his he said
Mother a maiden is a tender thing
And best by her that bore her understood
Go thou to rest but ere thou go to rest
Tell her and prove her heart toward the Prince
So spake the kindly-hearted Earl and she
With frequent smile and nod departing found
Half disarrayed as to her rest the girl
Whom first she kissed on either cheek and then
On either shining shoulder laid a hand
And kept her off and gazed upon her face
And told them all their converse in the hall
Proving her heart but never light and shade
Coursed one another more on open ground
Beneath a troubled heaven than red and pale
Across the face of Enid hearing her
While slowly falling as a scale that falls
When weight is added only grain by grain
Sank her sweet head upon her gentle breast
Nor did she lift an eye nor speak a word
Rapt in the fear and in the wonder of it
So moving without answer to her rest
She found no rest and ever failed to draw
The quiet night into her blood but lay
Contemplating her own unworthiness
And when the pale and bloodless east began
To quicken to the sun arose and raised
Her mother too and hand in hand they moved
Down to the meadow where the jousts were held
And waited there for Yniol and Geraint
And thither came the twain and when Geraint
Beheld her first in field awaiting him
He felt were she the prize of bodily force
Himself beyond the rest pushing could move
The chair of Idris Yniol rusted arms
Were on his princely person but through these
Princelike his bearing shone and errant knights
And ladies came and by and by the town
Flowed in and settling circled all the lists
And there they fixt the forks into the ground
And over these they placed the silver wand
And over that the golden sparrow-hawk
Then Yniol nephew after trumpet blown
Spake to the lady with him and proclaimed
Advance and take as fairest of the fair
What I these two years past have won for thee
The prize of beauty Loudly spake the Prince
Forbear there is a worthier and the knight
With some surprise and thrice as much disdain
Turned and beheld the four and all his face
Glowed like the heart of a great fire at Yule
So burnt he was with passion crying out
Do battle for it then no more and thrice
They clashed together and thrice they brake their spears
Then each dishorsed and drawing lashed at each
So often and with such blows that all the crowd
Wondered and now and then from distant walls
There came a clapping as of phantom hands
So twice they fought and twice they breathed and still
The dew of their great labour and the blood
Of their strong bodies flowing drained their force
But either force was matched till Yniol cry
Remember that great insult done the Queen
Increased Geraint who heaved his blade aloft
And cracked the helmet through and bit the bone
And felled him and set foot upon his breast
And said Thy name To whom the fallen man
Made answer groaning Edyrn son of Nudd
Ashamed am I that I should tell it thee
My pride is broken men have seen my fall
Then Edyrn son of Nudd replied Geraint
These two things shalt thou do or else thou diest
First thou thyself with damsel and with dwarf
Shalt ride to Arthur court and coming there
Crave pardon for that insult done the Queen
And shalt abide her judgment on it next
Thou shalt give back their earldom to thy kin
These two things shalt thou do or thou shalt die
And Edyrn answered These things will I do
For I have never yet been overthrown
And thou hast overthrown me and my pride
Is broken down for Enid sees my fall
And rising up he rode to Arthur court
And there the Queen forgave him easily
And being young he changed and came to loathe
His crime of traitor slowly drew himself
Bright from his old dark life and fell at last
In the great battle fighting for the King
But when the third day from the hunting-morn
Made a low splendour in the world and wings
Moved in her ivy Enid for she lay
With her fair head in the dim-yellow light
Among the dancing shadows of the birds
Woke and bethought her of her promise given
No later than last eve to Prince Geraint 
So bent he seemed on going the third day
He would not leave her till her promise given 
To ride with him this morning to the court
And there be made known to the stately Queen
And there be wedded with all ceremony
At this she cast her eyes upon her dress
And thought it never yet had looked so mean
For as a leaf in mid-November is
To what it is in mid-October seemed
The dress that now she looked on to the dress
She looked on ere the coming of Geraint
And still she looked and still the terror grew
Of that strange bright and dreadful thing a court
All staring at her in her faded silk
And softly to her own sweet heart she said
This noble prince who won our earldom back
So splendid in his acts and his attire
Sweet heaven how much I shall discredit him
Would he could tarry with us here awhile
But being so beholden to the Prince
It were but little grace in any of us
Bent as he seemed on going this third day
To seek a second favour at his hands
Yet if he could but tarry a day or two
Myself would work eye dim and finger lame
Far liefer than so much discredit him
And Enid fell in longing for a dress
All branched and flowered with gold a costly gift
Of her good mother given her on the night
Before her birthday three sad years ago
That night of fire when Edyrn sacked their house
And scattered all they had to all the winds
For while the mother showed it and the two
Were turning and admiring it the work
To both appeared so costly rose a cry
That Edyrn men were on them and they fled
With little save the jewels they had on
Which being sold and sold had bought them bread
And Edyrn men had caught them in their flight
And placed them in this ruin and she wished
The Prince had found her in her ancient home
Then let her fancy flit across the past
And roam the goodly places that she knew
And last bethought her how she used to watch
Near that old home a pool of golden carp
And one was patched and blurred and lustreless
Among his burnished brethren of the pool
And half asleep she made comparison
Of that and these to her own faded self
And the gay court and fell asleep again
And dreamt herself was such a faded form
Among her burnished sisters of the pool
But this was in the garden of a king
And though she lay dark in the pool she knew
That all was bright that all about were birds
Of sunny plume in gilded trellis-work
That all the turf was rich in plots that looked
Each like a garnet or a turkis in it
And lords and ladies of the high court went
In silver tissue talking things of state
And children of the King in cloth of gold
Glanced at the doors or gamboled down the walks
And while she thought They will not see me came
A stately queen whose name was Guinevere
And all the children in their cloth of gold
Ran to her crying If we have fish at all
Let them be gold and charge the gardeners now
To pick the faded creature from the pool
And cast it on the mixen that it die
And therewithal one came and seized on her
And Enid started waking with her heart
All overshadowed by the foolish dream
And lo it was her mother grasping her
To get her well awake and in her hand
A suit of bright apparel which she laid
Flat on the couch and spoke exultingly
See here my child how fresh the colours look
How fast they hold like colours of a shell
That keeps the wear and polish of the wave
Why not It never yet was worn I trow
Look on it child and tell me if ye know it
And Enid looked but all confused at first
Could scarce divide it from her foolish dream
Then suddenly she knew it and rejoiced
And answered Yea I know it your good gift
So sadly lost on that unhappy night
Your own good gift Yea surely said the dame
And gladly given again this happy morn
For when the jousts were ended yesterday
Went Yniol through the town and everywhere
He found the sack and plunder of our house
All scattered through the houses of the town
And gave command that all which once was ours
Should now be ours again and yester-eve
While ye were talking sweetly with your Prince
Came one with this and laid it in my hand
For love or fear or seeking favour of us
Because we have our earldom back again
And yester-eve I would not tell you of it
But kept it for a sweet surprise at morn
Yea truly is it not a sweet surprise
For I myself unwillingly have worn
My faded suit as you my child have yours
And howsoever patient Yniol his
Ah dear he took me from a goodly house
With store of rich apparel sumptuous fare
And page and maid and squire and seneschal
And pastime both of hawk and hound and all
That appertains to noble maintenance
Yea and he brought me to a goodly house
But since our fortune swerved from sun to shade
And all through that young traitor cruel need
Constrained us but a better time has come
So clothe yourself in this that better fits
Our mended fortunes and a Prince bride
For though ye won the prize of fairest fair
And though I heard him call you fairest fair
Let never maiden think however fair
She is not fairer in new clothes than old
And should some great court-lady say the Prince
Hath picked a ragged-robin from the hedge
And like a madman brought her to the court
Then were ye shamed and worse might shame the Prince
To whom we are beholden but I know
That when my dear child is set forth at her best
That neither court nor country though they sought
Through all the provinces like those of old
That lighted on Queen Esther has her match
Here ceased the kindly mother out of breath
And Enid listened brightening as she lay
Then as the white and glittering star of morn
Parts from a bank of snow and by and by
Slips into golden cloud the maiden rose
And left her maiden couch and robed herself
Helped by the mother careful hand and eye
Without a mirror in the gorgeous gown
Who after turned her daughter round and said
She never yet had seen her half so fair
And called her like that maiden in the tale
Whom Gwydion made by glamour out of flowers
And sweeter than the bride of Cassivelaun
Flur for whose love the Roman Caesar first
Invaded Britain But we beat him back
As this great Prince invaded us and we
Not beat him back but welcomed him with joy
And I can scarcely ride with you to court
For old am I and rough the ways and wild
But Yniol goes and I full oft shall dream
I see my princess as I see her now
Clothed with my gift and gay among the gay
But while the women thus rejoiced Geraint
Woke where he slept in the high hall and called
For Enid and when Yniol made report
Of that good mother making Enid gay
In such apparel as might well beseem
His princess or indeed the stately Queen
He answered Earl entreat her by my love
Albeit I give no reason but my wish
That she ride with me in her faded silk
Yniol with that hard message went it fell
Like flaws in summer laying lusty corn
For Enid all abashed she knew not why
Dared not to glance at her good mother face
But silently in all obedience
Her mother silent too nor helping her
Laid from her limbs the costly-broidered gift
And robed them in her ancient suit again
And so descended Never man rejoiced
More than Geraint to greet her thus attired
And glancing all at once as keenly at her
As careful robins eye the delver toil
Made her cheek burn and either eyelid fall
But rested with her sweet face satisfied
Then seeing cloud upon the mother brow
Her by both hands she caught and sweetly said
O my new mother be not wroth or grieved
At thy new son for my petition to her
When late I left Caerleon our great Queen
In words whose echo lasts they were so sweet
Made promise that whatever bride I brought
Herself would clothe her like the sun in Heaven
Thereafter when I reached this ruined hall
Beholding one so bright in dark estate
I vowed that could I gain her our fair Queen
No hand but hers should make your Enid burst
Sunlike from cloud and likewise thought perhaps
That service done so graciously would bind
The two together fain I would the two
Should love each other how can Enid find
A nobler friend Another thought was mine
I came among you here so suddenly
That though her gentle presence at the lists
Might well have served for proof that I was loved
I doubted whether daughter tenderness
Or easy nature might not let itself
Be moulded by your wishes for her weal
Or whether some false sense in her own self
Of my contrasting brightness overbore
Her fancy dwelling in this dusky hall
And such a sense might make her long for court
And all its perilous glories and I thought
That could I someway prove such force in her
Linked with such love for me that at a word
No reason given her she could cast aside
A splendour dear to women new to her
And therefore dearer or if not so new
Yet therefore tenfold dearer by the power
Of intermitted usage then I felt
That I could rest a rock in ebbs and flows
Fixt on her faith Now therefore I do rest
A prophet certain of my prophecy
That never shadow of mistrust can cross
Between us Grant me pardon for my thoughts
And for my strange petition I will make
Amends hereafter by some gaudy-day
When your fair child shall wear your costly gift
Beside your own warm hearth with on her knees
Who knows another gift of the high God
Which maybe shall have learned to lisp you thanks
He spoke the mother smiled but half in tears
Then brought a mantle down and wrapt her in it
And claspt and kissed her and they rode away
Now thrice that morning Guinevere had climbed
The giant tower from whose high crest they say
Men saw the goodly hills of Somerset
And white sails flying on the yellow sea
But not to goodly hill or yellow sea
Looked the fair Queen but up the vale of Usk
By the flat meadow till she saw them come
And then descending met them at the gates
Embraced her with all welcome as a friend
And did her honour as the Prince bride
And clothed her for her bridals like the sun
And all that week was old Caerleon gay
For by the hands of Dubric the high saint
They twain were wedded with all ceremony
And this was on the last year Whitsuntide
But Enid ever kept the faded silk
Remembering how first he came on her
Drest in that dress and how he loved her in it
And all her foolish fears about the dress
And all his journey toward her as himself
Had told her and their coming to the court
And now this morning when he said to her
Put on your worst and meanest dress she found
And took it and arrayed herself therein
O purblind race of miserable men
How many among us at this very hour
Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves
By taking true for false or false for true
Here through the feeble twilight of this world
Groping how many until we pass and reach
That other where we see as we are seen
So fared it with Geraint who issuing forth
That morning when they both had got to horse
Perhaps because he loved her passionately
And felt that tempest brooding round his heart
Which if he spoke at all would break perforce
Upon a head so dear in thunder said
Not at my side I charge thee ride before
Ever a good way on before and this
I charge thee on thy duty as a wife
Whatever happens not to speak to me
No not a word and Enid was aghast
And forth they rode but scarce three paces on
When crying out Effeminate as I am
I will not fight my way with gilded arms
All shall be iron he loosed a mighty purse
Hung at his belt and hurled it toward the squire
So the last sight that Enid had of home
Was all the marble threshold flashing strown
With gold and scattered coinage and the squire
Chafing his shoulder then he cried again
To the wilds and Enid leading down the tracks
Through which he bad her lead him on they past
The marches and by bandit-haunted holds
Gray swamps and pools waste places of the hern
And wildernesses perilous paths they rode
Round was their pace at first but slackened soon
A stranger meeting them had surely thought
They rode so slowly and they looked so pale
That each had suffered some exceeding wrong
For he was ever saying to himself
O I that wasted time to tend upon her
To compass her with sweet observances
To dress her beautifully and keep her true 
And there he broke the sentence in his heart
Abruptly as a man upon his tongue
May break it when his passion masters him
And she was ever praying the sweet heavens
To save her dear lord whole from any wound
And ever in her mind she cast about
For that unnoticed failing in herself
Which made him look so cloudy and so cold
Till the great plover human whistle amazed
Her heart and glancing round the waste she feared
In every wavering brake an ambuscade
Then thought again If there be such in me
I might amend it by the grace of Heaven
If he would only speak and tell me of it
But when the fourth part of the day was gone
Then Enid was aware of three tall knights
On horseback wholly armed behind a rock
In shadow waiting for them caitiffs all
And heard one crying to his fellow Look
Here comes a laggard hanging down his head
Who seems no bolder than a beaten hound
Come we will slay him and will have his horse
And armour and his damsel shall be ours
Then Enid pondered in her heart and said
I will go back a little to my lord
And I will tell him all their caitiff talk
For be he wroth even to slaying me
Far liefer by his dear hand had I die
Than that my lord should suffer loss or shame
Then she went back some paces of return
Met his full frown timidly firm and said
My lord I saw three bandits by the rock
Waiting to fall on you and heard them boast
That they would slay you and possess your horse
And armour and your damsel should be theirs
He made a wrathful answer Did I wish
Your warning or your silence one command
I laid upon you not to speak to me
And thus ye keep it Well then look for now
Whether ye wish me victory or defeat
Long for my life or hunger for my death
Yourself shall see my vigour is not lost
Then Enid waited pale and sorrowful
And down upon him bare the bandit three
And at the midmost charging Prince Geraint
Drave the long spear a cubit through his breast
And out beyond and then against his brace
Of comrades each of whom had broken on him
A lance that splintered like an icicle
Swung from his brand a windy buffet out
Once twice to right to left and stunned the twain
Or slew them and dismounting like a man
That skins the wild beast after slaying him
Stript from the three dead wolves of woman born
The three gay suits of armour which they wore
And let the bodies lie but bound the suits
Of armour on their horses each on each
And tied the bridle-reins of all the three
Together and said to her Drive them on
Before you and she drove them through the waste
He followed nearer ruth began to work
Against his anger in him while he watched
The being he loved best in all the world
With difficulty in mild obedience
Driving them on he fain had spoken to her
And loosed in words of sudden fire the wrath
And smouldered wrong that burnt him all within
But evermore it seemed an easier thing
At once without remorse to strike her dead
Than to cry Halt and to her own bright face
Accuse her of the least immodesty
And thus tongue-tied it made him wroth the more
That she could speak whom his own ear had heard
Call herself false and suffering thus he made
Minutes an age but in scarce longer time
Than at Caerleon the full-tided Usk
Before he turn to fall seaward again
Pauses did Enid keeping watch behold
In the first shallow shade of a deep wood
Before a gloom of stubborn-shafted oaks
Three other horsemen waiting wholly armed
Whereof one seemed far larger than her lord
And shook her pulses crying Look a prize
Three horses and three goodly suits of arms
And all in charge of whom a girl set on
Nay said the second yonder comes a knight
The third A craven how he hangs his head
The giant answered merrily Yea but one
Wait here and when he passes fall upon him
And Enid pondered in her heart and said
I will abide the coming of my lord
And I will tell him all their villainy
My lord is weary with the fight before
And they will fall upon him unawares
I needs must disobey him for his good
How should I dare obey him to his harm
Needs must I speak and though he kill me for it
I save a life dearer to me than mine
And she abode his coming and said to him
With timid firmness Have I leave to speak
He said Ye take it speaking and she spoke
There lurk three villains yonder in the wood
And each of them is wholly armed and one
Is larger-limbed than you are and they say
That they will fall upon you while ye pass
To which he flung a wrathful answer back
And if there were an hundred in the wood
And every man were larger-limbed than I
And all at once should sally out upon me
I swear it would not ruffle me so much
As you that not obey me Stand aside
And if I fall cleave to the better man
And Enid stood aside to wait the event
Not dare to watch the combat only breathe
Short fits of prayer at every stroke a breath
And he she dreaded most bare down upon him
Aimed at the helm his lance erred but Geraint's
A little in the late encounter strained
Struck through the bulky bandit corselet home
And then brake short and down his enemy rolled
And there lay still as he that tells the tale
Saw once a great piece of a promontory
That had a sapling growing on it slide
From the long shore-cliff windy walls to the beach
And there lie still and yet the sapling grew
So lay the man transfixt His craven pair
Of comrades making slowlier at the Prince
When now they saw their bulwark fallen stood
On whom the victor to confound them more
Spurred with his terrible war-cry for as one
That listens near a torrent mountain-brook
All through the crash of the near cataract hears
The drumming thunder of the huger fall
At distance were the soldiers wont to hear
His voice in battle and be kindled by it
And foemen scared like that false pair who turned
Flying but overtaken died the death
Themselves had wrought on many an innocent
Thereon Geraint dismounting picked the lance
That pleased him best and drew from those dead wolves
Their three gay suits of armour each from each
And bound them on their horses each on each
And tied the bridle-reins of all the three
Together and said to her Drive them on
Before you and she drove them through the wood
He followed nearer still the pain she had
To keep them in the wild ways of the wood
Two sets of three laden with jingling arms
Together served a little to disedge
The sharpness of that pain about her heart
And they themselves like creatures gently born
But into bad hands fallen and now so long
By bandits groomed pricked their light ears and felt
Her low firm voice and tender government
So through the green gloom of the wood they past
And issuing under open heavens beheld
A little town with towers upon a rock
And close beneath a meadow gemlike chased
In the brown wild and mowers mowing in it
And down a rocky pathway from the place
There came a fair-haired youth that in his hand
Bare victual for the mowers and Geraint
Had ruth again on Enid looking pale
Then moving downward to the meadow ground
He when the fair-haired youth came by him said
Friend let her eat the damsel is so faint
Yea willingly replied the youth and thou
My lord eat also though the fare is coarse
And only meet for mowers then set down
His basket and dismounting on the sward
They let the horses graze and ate themselves
And Enid took a little delicately
Less having stomach for it than desire
To close with her lord pleasure but Geraint
Ate all the mowers' victual unawares
And when he found all empty was amazed
And Boy said he I have eaten all but take
A horse and arms for guerdon choose the best
He reddening in extremity of delight
My lord you overpay me fifty-fold
Ye will be all the wealthier cried the Prince
I take it as free gift then said the boy
Not guerdon for myself can easily
While your good damsel rests return and fetch
Fresh victual for these mowers of our Earl
For these are his and all the field is his
And I myself am his and I will tell him
How great a man thou art he loves to know
When men of mark are in his territory
And he will have thee to his palace here
And serve thee costlier than with mowers' fare
Then said Geraint I wish no better fare
I never ate with angrier appetite
Than when I left your mowers dinnerless
And into no Earl palace will I go
I know God knows too much of palaces
And if he want me let him come to me
But hire us some fair chamber for the night
And stalling for the horses and return
With victual for these men and let us know
Yea my kind lord said the glad youth and went
Held his head high and thought himself a knight
And up the rocky pathway disappeared
Leading the horse and they were left alone
But when the Prince had brought his errant eyes
Home from the rock sideways he let them glance
At Enid where she droopt his own false doom
That shadow of mistrust should never cross
Betwixt them came upon him and he sighed
Then with another humorous ruth remarked
The lusty mowers labouring dinnerless
And watched the sun blaze on the turning scythe
And after nodded sleepily in the heat
But she remembering her old ruined hall
And all the windy clamour of the daws
About her hollow turret plucked the grass
There growing longest by the meadow edge
And into many a listless annulet
Now over now beneath her marriage ring
Wove and unwove it till the boy returned
And told them of a chamber and they went
Where after saying to her If ye will
Call for the woman of the house to which
She answered Thanks my lord the two remained
Apart by all the chamber width and mute
As two creatures voiceless through the fault of birth
Or two wild men supporters of a shield
Painted who stare at open space nor glance
The one at other parted by the shield
On a sudden many a voice along the street
And heel against the pavement echoing burst
Their drowse and either started while the door
Pushed from without drave backward to the wall
And midmost of a rout of roisterers
Femininely fair and dissolutely pale
Her suitor in old years before Geraint
Entered the wild lord of the place Limours
He moving up with pliant courtliness
Greeted Geraint full face but stealthily
In the mid-warmth of welcome and graspt hand
Found Enid with the corner of his eye
And knew her sitting sad and solitary
Then cried Geraint for wine and goodly cheer
To feed the sudden guest and sumptuously
According to his fashion bad the host
Call in what men soever were his friends
And feast with these in honour of their Earl
And care not for the cost the cost is mine
And wine and food were brought and Earl Limours
Drank till he jested with all ease and told
Free tales and took the word and played upon it
And made it of two colours for his talk
When wine and free companions kindled him
Was wont to glance and sparkle like a gem
Of fifty facets thus he moved the Prince
To laughter and his comrades to applause
Then when the Prince was merry asked Limours
Your leave my lord to cross the room and speak
To your good damsel there who sits apart
And seems so lonely My free leave he said
Get her to speak she doth not speak to me
Then rose Limours and looking at his feet
Like him who tries the bridge he fears may fail
Crost and came near lifted adoring eyes
Bowed at her side and uttered whisperingly
Enid the pilot star of my lone life
Enid my early and my only love
Enid the loss of whom hath turned me wild 
What chance is this how is it I see you here
Ye are in my power at last are in my power
Yet fear me not I call mine own self wild
But keep a touch of sweet civility
Here in the heart of waste and wilderness
I thought but that your father came between
In former days you saw me favourably
And if it were so do not keep it back
Make me a little happier let me know it
Owe you me nothing for a life half-lost
Yea yea the whole dear debt of all you are
And Enid you and he I see with joy
Ye sit apart you do not speak to him
You come with no attendance page or maid
To serve you doth he love you as of old
For call it lovers' quarrels yet I know
Though men may bicker with the things they love
They would not make them laughable in all eyes
Not while they loved them and your wretched dress
A wretched insult on you dumbly speaks
Your story that this man loves you no more
Your beauty is no beauty to him now
A common chance right well I know it palled 
For I know men nor will ye win him back
For the man love once gone never returns
But here is one who loves you as of old
With more exceeding passion than of old
Good speak the word my followers ring him round
He sits unarmed I hold a finger up
They understand nay I do not mean blood
Nor need ye look so scared at what I say
My malice is no deeper than a moat
No stronger than a wall there is the keep
He shall not cross us more speak but the word
Or speak it not but then by Him that made me
The one true lover whom you ever owned
I will make use of all the power I have
O pardon me the madness of that hour
When first I parted from thee moves me yet
At this the tender sound of his own voice
And sweet self-pity or the fancy of it
Made his eye moist but Enid feared his eyes
Moist as they were wine-heated from the feast
And answered with such craft as women use
Guilty or guiltless to stave off a chance
That breaks upon them perilously and said
Earl if you love me as in former years
And do not practise on me come with morn
And snatch me from him as by violence
Leave me tonight I am weary to the death
Low at leave-taking with his brandished plume
Brushing his instep bowed the all-amorous Earl
And the stout Prince bad him a loud good-night
He moving homeward babbled to his men
How Enid never loved a man but him
Nor cared a broken egg-shell for her lord
But Enid left alone with Prince Geraint
Debating his command of silence given
And that she now perforce must violate it
Held commune with herself and while she held
He fell asleep and Enid had no heart
To wake him but hung o'er him wholly pleased
To find him yet unwounded after fight
And hear him breathing low and equally
Anon she rose and stepping lightly heaped
The pieces of his armour in one place
All to be there against a sudden need
Then dozed awhile herself but overtoiled
By that day grief and travel evermore
Seemed catching at a rootless thorn and then
Went slipping down horrible precipices
And strongly striking out her limbs awoke
Then thought she heard the wild Earl at the door
With all his rout of random followers
Sound on a dreadful trumpet summoning her
Which was the red cock shouting to the light
As the gray dawn stole o'er the dewy world
And glimmered on his armour in the room
And once again she rose to look at it
But touched it unawares jangling the casque
Fell and he started up and stared at her
Then breaking his command of silence given
She told him all that Earl Limours had said
Except the passage that he loved her not
Nor left untold the craft herself had used
But ended with apology so sweet
Low-spoken and of so few words and seemed
So justified by that necessity
That though he thought was it for him she wept
In Devon he but gave a wrathful groan
Saying Your sweet faces make good fellows fools
And traitors Call the host and bid him bring
Charger and palfrey So she glided out
Among the heavy breathings of the house
And like a household Spirit at the walls
Beat till she woke the sleepers and returned
Then tending her rough lord though all unasked
In silence did him service as a squire
Till issuing armed he found the host and cried
Thy reckoning friend and ere he learnt it Take
Five horses and their armours and the host
Suddenly honest answered in amaze
My lord I scarce have spent the worth of one
Ye will be all the wealthier said the Prince
And then to Enid Forward and today
I charge you Enid more especially
What thing soever ye may hear or see
Or fancy though I count it of small use
To charge you that ye speak not but obey
And Enid answered Yea my lord I know
Your wish and would obey but riding first
I hear the violent threats you do not hear
I see the danger which you cannot see
Then not to give you warning that seems hard
Almost beyond me yet I would obey
Yea so said he do it be not too wise
Seeing that ye are wedded to a man
Not all mismated with a yawning clown
But one with arms to guard his head and yours
With eyes to find you out however far
And ears to hear you even in his dreams
With that he turned and looked as keenly at her
As careful robins eye the delver toil
And that within her which a wanton fool
Or hasty judger would have called her guilt
Made her cheek burn and either eyelid fall
And Geraint looked and was not satisfied
Then forward by a way which beaten broad
Led from the territory of false Limours
To the waste earldom of another earl
Doorm whom his shaking vassals called the Bull
Went Enid with her sullen follower on
Once she looked back and when she saw him ride
More near by many a rood than yestermorn
It wellnigh made her cheerful till Geraint
Waving an angry hand as who should say
Ye watch me saddened all her heart again
But while the sun yet beat a dewy blade
The sound of many a heavily-galloping hoof
Smote on her ear and turning round she saw
Dust and the points of lances bicker in it
Then not to disobey her lord behest
And yet to give him warning for he rode
As if he heard not moving back she held
Her finger up and pointed to the dust
At which the warrior in his obstinacy
Because she kept the letter of his word
Was in a manner pleased and turning stood
And in the moment after wild Limours
Borne on a black horse like a thunder-cloud
Whose skirts are loosened by the breaking storm
Half ridden off with by the thing he rode
And all in passion uttering a dry shriek
Dashed down on Geraint who closed with him and bore
Down by the length of lance and arm beyond
The crupper and so left him stunned or dead
And overthrew the next that followed him
And blindly rushed on all the rout behind
But at the flash and motion of the man
They vanished panic-stricken like a shoal
Of darting fish that on a summer morn
Adown the crystal dykes at Camelot
Come slipping o'er their shadows on the sand
But if a man who stands upon the brink
But lift a shining hand against the sun
There is not left the twinkle of a fin
Betwixt the cressy islets white in flower
So scared but at the motion of the man
Fled all the boon companions of the Earl
And left him lying in the public way
So vanish friendships only made in wine
Then like a stormy sunlight smiled Geraint
Who saw the chargers of the two that fell
Start from their fallen lords and wildly fly
Mixt with the flyers Horse and man he said
All of one mind and all right-honest friends
Not a hoof left and I methinks till now
Was honest paid with horses and with arms
I cannot steal or plunder no nor beg
And so what say ye shall we strip him there
Your lover has your palfrey heart enough
To bear his armour shall we fast or dine
No then do thou being right honest pray
That we may meet the horsemen of Earl Doorm
I too would still be honest Thus he said
And sadly gazing on her bridle-reins
And answering not one word she led the way
But as a man to whom a dreadful loss
Falls in a far land and he knows it not
But coming back he learns it and the loss
So pains him that he sickens nigh to death
So fared it with Geraint who being pricked
In combat with the follower of Limours
Bled underneath his armour secretly
And so rode on nor told his gentle wife
What ailed him hardly knowing it himself
Till his eye darkened and his helmet wagged
And at a sudden swerving of the road
Though happily down on a bank of grass
The Prince without a word from his horse fell
And Enid heard the clashing of his fall
Suddenly came and at his side all pale
Dismounting loosed the fastenings of his arms
Nor let her true hand falter nor blue eye
Moisten till she had lighted on his wound
And tearing off her veil of faded silk
Had bared her forehead to the blistering sun
And swathed the hurt that drained her dear lord life
Then after all was done that hand could do
She rested and her desolation came
Upon her and she wept beside the way
And many past but none regarded her
For in that realm of lawless turbulence
A woman weeping for her murdered mate
Was cared as much for as a summer shower
One took him for a victim of Earl Doorm
Nor dared to waste a perilous pity on him
Another hurrying past a man-at-arms
Rode on a mission to the bandit Earl
Half whistling and half singing a coarse song
He drove the dust against her veilless eyes
Another flying from the wrath of Doorm
Before an ever-fancied arrow made
The long way smoke beneath him in his fear
At which her palfrey whinnying lifted heel
And scoured into the coppices and was lost
While the great charger stood grieved like a man
But at the point of noon the huge Earl Doorm
Broad-faced with under-fringe of russet beard
Bound on a foray rolling eyes of prey
Came riding with a hundred lances up
But ere he came like one that hails a ship
Cried out with a big voice What is he dead
No no not dead she answered in all haste
Would some of your people take him up
And bear him hence out of this cruel sun
Most sure am I quite sure he is not dead
Then said Earl Doorm Well if he be not dead
Why wail ye for him thus ye seem a child
And be he dead I count you for a fool
Your wailing will not quicken him dead or not
Ye mar a comely face with idiot tears
Yet since the face is comely some of you
Here take him up and bear him to our hall
An if he live we will have him of our band
And if he die why earth has earth enough
To hide him See ye take the charger too
But left two brawny spearmen who advanced
Each growling like a dog when his good bone
Seems to be plucked at by the village boys
Who love to vex him eating and he fears
To lose his bone and lays his foot upon it
Gnawing and growling so the ruffians growled
Fearing to lose and all for a dead man
Their chance of booty from the morning raid
Yet raised and laid him on a litter-bier
Such as they brought upon their forays out
For those that might be wounded laid him on it
All in the hollow of his shield and took
And bore him to the naked hall of Doorm
His gentle charger following him unled
And cast him and the bier in which he lay
Down on an oaken settle in the hall
And then departed hot in haste to join
Their luckier mates but growling as before
And cursing their lost time and the dead man
And their own Earl and their own souls and her
They might as well have blest her she was deaf
To blessing or to cursing save from one
So for long hours sat Enid by her lord
There in the naked hall propping his head
And chafing his pale hands and calling to him
Till at the last he wakened from his swoon
And found his own dear bride propping his head
And chafing his faint hands and calling to him
And felt the warm tears falling on his face
And said to his own heart She weeps for me
And yet lay still and feigned himself as dead
That he might prove her to the uttermost
And say to his own heart She weeps for me
But in the falling afternoon returned
The huge Earl Doorm with plunder to the hall
His lusty spearmen followed him with noise
Each hurling down a heap of things that rang
Against his pavement cast his lance aside
And doffed his helm and then there fluttered in
Half-bold half-frighted with dilated eyes
A tribe of women dressed in many hues
And mingled with the spearmen and Earl Doorm
Struck with a knife haft hard against the board
And called for flesh and wine to feed his spears
And men brought in whole hogs and quarter beeves
And all the hall was dim with steam of flesh
And none spake word but all sat down at once
And ate with tumult in the naked hall
Feeding like horses when you hear them feed
Till Enid shrank far back into herself
To shun the wild ways of the lawless tribe
But when Earl Doorm had eaten all he would
He rolled his eyes about the hall and found
A damsel drooping in a corner of it
Then he remembered her and how she wept
And out of her there came a power upon him
And rising on the sudden he said Eat
I never yet beheld a thing so pale
God curse it makes me mad to see you weep
Eat Look yourself Good luck had your good man
For were I dead who is it would weep for me
Sweet lady never since I first drew breath
Have I beheld a lily like yourself
And so there lived some colour in your cheek
There is not one among my gentlewomen
Were fit to wear your slipper for a glove
But listen to me and by me be ruled
And I will do the thing I have not done
For ye shall share my earldom with me girl
And we will live like two birds in one nest
And I will fetch you forage from all fields
For I compel all creatures to my will
He spoke the brawny spearman let his cheek
Bulge with the unswallowed piece and turning stared
While some whose souls the old serpent long had drawn
Down as the worm draws in the withered leaf
And makes it earth hissed each at other ear
What shall not be recorded women they
Women or what had been those gracious things
But now desired the humbling of their best
Yea would have helped him to it and all at once
They hated her who took no thought of them
But answered in low voice her meek head yet
Drooping I pray you of your courtesy
He being as he is to let me be
She spake so low he hardly heard her speak
But like a mighty patron satisfied
With what himself had done so graciously
Assumed that she had thanked him adding Yea
Eat and be glad for I account you mine
She answered meekly How should I be glad
Henceforth in all the world at anything
Until my lord arise and look upon me
Here the huge Earl cried out upon her talk
As all but empty heart and weariness
And sickly nothing suddenly seized on her
And bare her by main violence to the board
And thrust the dish before her crying Eat
No no said Enid vext I will not eat
Till yonder man upon the bier arise
And eat with me Drink then he answered Here
And filled a horn with wine and held it to her
Lo I myself when flushed with fight or hot
God curse with anger often I myself
Before I well have drunken scarce can eat
Drink therefore and the wine will change thy will
Not so she cried by Heaven I will not drink
Till my dear lord arise and bid me do it
And drink with me and if he rise no more
I will not look at wine until I die
At this he turned all red and paced his hall
Now gnawed his under now his upper lip
And coming up close to her said at last
Girl for I see ye scorn my courtesies
Take warning yonder man is surely dead
And I compel all creatures to my will
Not eat nor drink And wherefore wail for one
Who put your beauty to this flout and scorn
By dressing it in rags Amazed am I
Beholding how ye butt against my wish
That I forbear you thus cross me no more
At least put off to please me this poor gown
This silken rag this beggar-woman weed
I love that beauty should go beautifully
For see ye not my gentlewomen here
How gay how suited to the house of one
Who loves that beauty should go beautifully
Rise therefore robe yourself in this obey
He spoke and one among his gentlewomen
Displayed a splendid silk of foreign loom
Where like a shoaling sea the lovely blue
Played into green and thicker down the front
With jewels than the sward with drops of dew
When all night long a cloud clings to the hill
And with the dawn ascending lets the day
Strike where it clung so thickly shone the gems
But Enid answered harder to be moved
Than hardest tyrants in their day of power
With life-long injuries burning unavenged
And now their hour has come and Enid said
In this poor gown my dear lord found me first
And loved me serving in my father hall
In this poor gown I rode with him to court
And there the Queen arrayed me like the sun
In this poor gown he bad me clothe myself
When now we rode upon this fatal quest
Of honour where no honour can be gained
And this poor gown I will not cast aside
Until himself arise a living man
And bid me cast it I have griefs enough
Pray you be gentle pray you let me be
I never loved can never love but him
Yea God I pray you of your gentleness
He being as he is to let me be
Then strode the brute Earl up and down his hall
And took his russet beard between his teeth
Last coming up quite close and in his mood
Crying I count it of no more avail
Dame to be gentle than ungentle with you
Take my salute unknightly with flat hand
However lightly smote her on the cheek
Then Enid in her utter helplessness
And since she thought He had not dared to do it
Except he surely knew my lord was dead
Sent forth a sudden sharp and bitter cry
As of a wild thing taken in the trap
Which sees the trapper coming through the wood
This heard Geraint and grasping at his sword
It lay beside him in the hollow shield
Made but a single bound and with a sweep of it
Shore through the swarthy neck and like a ball
The russet-bearded head rolled on the floor
So died Earl Doorm by him he counted dead
And all the men and women in the hall
Rose when they saw the dead man rise and fled
Yelling as from a spectre and the two
Were left alone together and he said
Enid I have used you worse than that dead man
Done you more wrong we both have undergone
That trouble which has left me thrice your own
Henceforward I will rather die than doubt
And here I lay this penance on myself
Not though mine own ears heard you yestermorn 
You thought me sleeping but I heard you say
I heard you say that you were no true wife
I swear I will not ask your meaning in it
I do believe yourself against yourself
And will henceforward rather die than doubt
And Enid could not say one tender word
She felt so blunt and stupid at the heart
She only prayed him Fly they will return
And slay you fly your charger is without
My palfrey lost Then Enid shall you ride
Behind me Yea said Enid let us go
And moving out they found the stately horse
Who now no more a vassal to the thief
But free to stretch his limbs in lawful fight
Neighed with all gladness as they came and stooped
With a low whinny toward the pair and she
Kissed the white star upon his noble front
Glad also then Geraint upon the horse
Mounted and reached a hand and on his foot
She set her own and climbed he turned his face
And kissed her climbing and she cast her arms
About him and at once they rode away
And never yet since high in Paradise
O'er the four rivers the first roses blew
Came purer pleasure unto mortal kind
Than lived through her who in that perilous hour
Put hand to hand beneath her husband heart
And felt him hers again she did not weep
But o'er her meek eyes came a happy mist
Like that which kept the heart of Eden green
Before the useful trouble of the rain
Yet not so misty were her meek blue eyes
As not to see before them on the path
Right in the gateway of the bandit hold
A knight of Arthur court who laid his lance
In rest and made as if to fall upon him
Then fearing for his hurt and loss of blood
She with her mind all full of what had chanced
Shrieked to the stranger Slay not a dead man
The voice of Enid said the knight but she
Beholding it was Edyrn son of Nudd
Was moved so much the more and shrieked again
O cousin slay not him who gave you life
And Edyrn moving frankly forward spake
My lord Geraint I greet you with all love
I took you for a bandit knight of Doorm
And fear not Enid I should fall upon him
Who love you Prince with something of the love
Wherewith we love the Heaven that chastens us
For once when I was up so high in pride
That I was halfway down the slope to Hell
By overthrowing me you threw me higher
Now made a knight of Arthur Table Round
And since I knew this Earl when I myself
Was half a bandit in my lawless hour
I come the mouthpiece of our King to Doorm
The King is close behind me bidding him
Disband himself and scatter all his powers
Submit and hear the judgment of the King
He hears the judgment of the King of kings
Cried the wan Prince and lo the powers of Doorm
Are scattered and he pointed to the field
Where huddled here and there on mound and knoll
Were men and women staring and aghast
While some yet fled and then he plainlier told
How the huge Earl lay slain within his hall
But when the knight besought him Follow me
Prince to the camp and in the King own ear
Speak what has chanced ye surely have endured
Strange chances here alone that other flushed
And hung his head and halted in reply
Fearing the mild face of the blameless King
And after madness acted question asked
Till Edyrn crying If ye will not go
To Arthur then will Arthur come to you
Enough he said I follow and they went
But Enid in their going had two fears
One from the bandit scattered in the field
And one from Edyrn Every now and then
When Edyrn reined his charger at her side
She shrank a little In a hollow land
From which old fires have broken men may fear
Fresh fire and ruin He perceiving said
Fair and dear cousin you that most had cause
To fear me fear no longer I am changed
Yourself were first the blameless cause to make
My nature prideful sparkle in the blood
Break into furious flame being repulsed
By Yniol and yourself I schemed and wrought
Until I overturned him then set up
With one main purpose ever at my heart
My haughty jousts and took a paramour
Did her mock-honour as the fairest fair
And toppling over all antagonism
So waxed in pride that I believed myself
Unconquerable for I was wellnigh mad
And but for my main purpose in these jousts
I should have slain your father seized yourself
I lived in hope that sometime you would come
To these my lists with him whom best you loved
And there poor cousin with your meek blue eyes
The truest eyes that ever answered Heaven
Behold me overturn and trample on him
Then had you cried or knelt or prayed to me
I should not less have killed him And so you came 
But once you came and with your own true eyes
Beheld the man you loved I speak as one
Speaks of a service done him overthrow
My proud self and my purpose three years old
And set his foot upon me and give me life
There was I broken down there was I saved
Though thence I rode all-shamed hating the life
He gave me meaning to be rid of it
And all the penance the Queen laid upon me
Was but to rest awhile within her court
Where first as sullen as a beast new-caged
And waiting to be treated like a wolf
Because I knew my deeds were known I found
Instead of scornful pity or pure scorn
Such fine reserve and noble reticence
Manners so kind yet stately such a grace
Of tenderest courtesy that I began
To glance behind me at my former life
And find that it had been the wolf indeed
And oft I talked with Dubric the high saint
Who with mild heat of holy oratory
Subdued me somewhat to that gentleness
Which when it weds with manhood makes a man
And you were often there about the Queen
But saw me not or marked not if you saw
Nor did I care or dare to speak with you
But kept myself aloof till I was changed
And fear not cousin I am changed indeed
He spoke and Enid easily believed
Like simple noble natures credulous
Of what they long for good in friend or foe
There most in those who most have done them ill
And when they reached the camp the King himself
Advanced to greet them and beholding her
Though pale yet happy asked her not a word
But went apart with Edyrn whom he held
In converse for a little and returned
And gravely smiling lifted her from horse
And kissed her with all pureness brother-like
And showed an empty tent allotted her
And glancing for a minute till he saw her
Pass into it turned to the Prince and said
Prince when of late ye prayed me for my leave
To move to your own land and there defend
Your marches I was pricked with some reproof
As one that let foul wrong stagnate and be
By having looked too much through alien eyes
And wrought too long with delegated hands
Not used mine own but now behold me come
To cleanse this common sewer of all my realm
With Edyrn and with others have ye looked
At Edyrn have ye seen how nobly changed
This work of his is great and wonderful
His very face with change of heart is changed
The world will not believe a man repents
And this wise world of ours is mainly right
Full seldom doth a man repent or use
Both grace and will to pick the vicious quitch
Of blood and custom wholly out of him
And make all clean and plant himself afresh
Edyrn has done it weeding all his heart
As I will weed this land before I go
I therefore made him of our Table Round
Not rashly but have proved him everyway
One of our noblest our most valorous
Sanest and most obedient and indeed
This work of Edyrn wrought upon himself
After a life of violence seems to me
A thousand-fold more great and wonderful
Than if some knight of mine risking his life
My subject with my subjects under him
Should make an onslaught single on a realm
Of robbers though he slew them one by one
And were himself nigh wounded to the death
So spake the King low bowed the Prince and felt
His work was neither great nor wonderful
And past to Enid tent and thither came
The King own leech to look into his hurt
And Enid tended on him there and there
Her constant motion round him and the breath
Of her sweet tendance hovering over him
Filled all the genial courses of his blood
With deeper and with ever deeper love
As the south-west that blowing Bala lake
Fills all the sacred Dee So past the days
But while Geraint lay healing of his hurt
The blameless King went forth and cast his eyes
On each of all whom Uther left in charge
Long since to guard the justice of the King
He looked and found them wanting and as now
Men weed the white horse on the Berkshire hills
To keep him bright and clean as heretofore
He rooted out the slothful officer
Or guilty which for bribe had winked at wrong
And in their chairs set up a stronger race
With hearts and hands and sent a thousand men
To till the wastes and moving everywhere
Cleared the dark places and let in the law
And broke the bandit holds and cleansed the land
Then when Geraint was whole again they past
With Arthur to Caerleon upon Usk
There the great Queen once more embraced her friend
And clothed her in apparel like the day
And though Geraint could never take again
That comfort from their converse which he took
Before the Queen fair name was breathed upon
He rested well content that all was well
Thence after tarrying for a space they rode
And fifty knights rode with them to the shores
Of Severn and they past to their own land
And there he kept the justice of the King
So vigorously yet mildly that all hearts
Applauded and the spiteful whisper died
And being ever foremost in the chase
And victor at the tilt and tournament
They called him the great Prince and man of men
But Enid whom her ladies loved to call
Enid the Fair a grateful people named
Enid the Good and in their halls arose
The cry of children Enids and Geraints
Of times to be nor did he doubt her more
But rested in her fealty till he crowned
A happy life with a fair death and fell
Against the heathen of the Northern Sea
In battle fighting for the blameless King
Pellam the King who held and lost with Lot
In that first war and had his realm restored
But rendered tributary failed of late
To send his tribute wherefore Arthur called
His treasurer one of many years and spake
Go thou with him and him and bring it to us
Lest we should set one truer on his throne
We go but harken there be two strange knights
Who sit near Camelot at a fountain-side
A mile beneath the forest challenging
And overthrowing every knight who comes
Wilt thou I undertake them as we pass
Old friend too old to be so young depart
Delay not thou for aught but let them sit
Until they find a lustier than themselves
So these departed Early one fair dawn
The light-winged spirit of his youth returned
On Arthur heart he armed himself and went
So coming to the fountain-side beheld
Balin and Balan sitting statuelike
Brethren to right and left the spring that down
From underneath a plume of lady-fern
Sang and the sand danced at the bottom of it
And on the right of Balin Balin horse
Was fast beside an alder on the left
Of Balan Balan near a poplartree
Fair Sirs said Arthur wherefore sit ye here
Balin and Balan answered For the sake
Of glory we be mightier men than all
In Arthur court that also have we proved
For whatsoever knight against us came
Or I or he have easily overthrown
I too said Arthur am of Arthur hall
But rather proven in his Paynim wars
Than famous jousts but see or proven or not
Whether me likewise ye can overthrow
And Arthur lightly smote the brethren down
And lightly so returned and no man knew
Then Balin rose and Balan and beside
The carolling water set themselves again
And spake no word until the shadow turned
When from the fringe of coppice round them burst
A spangled pursuivant and crying Sirs
Rise follow ye be sent for by the King
They followed whom when Arthur seeing asked
Tell me your names why sat ye by the well
Balin the stillness of a minute broke
Saying An unmelodious name to thee
Balin 'the Savage' that addition thine 
My brother and my better this man here
Balan I smote upon the naked skull
A thrall of thine in open hall my hand
Was gauntleted half slew him for I heard
He had spoken evil of me thy just wrath
Sent me a three-years' exile from thine eyes
I have not lived my life delightsomely
For I that did that violence to thy thrall
Had often wrought some fury on myself
Saving for Balan those three kingless years
Have past were wormwood-bitter to me King
Methought that if we sat beside the well
And hurled to ground what knight soever spurred
Against us thou would'st take me gladlier back
And make as ten-times worthier to be thine
Than twenty Balins Balan knight I have said
Not so not all A man of thine today
Abashed us both and brake my boast Thy will
Said Arthur Thou hast ever spoken truth
Thy too fierce manhood would not let thee lie
Rise my true knight As children learn be thou
Wiser for falling walk with me and move
To music with thine Order and the King
Thy chair a grief to all the brethren stands
Vacant but thou retake it mine again
Thereafter when Sir Balin entered hall
The Lost one Found was greeted as in Heaven
With joy that blazed itself in woodland wealth
Of leaf and gayest garlandage of flowers
Along the walls and down the board they sat
And cup clashed cup they drank and some one sang
Sweet-voiced a song of welcome whereupon
Their common shout in chorus mounting made
Those banners of twelve battles overhead
Stir as they stirred of old when Arthur host
Proclaimed him Victor and the day was won
Then Balan added to their Order lived
A wealthier life than heretofore with these
And Balin till their embassage returned
Sir King they brought report we hardly found
So bushed about it is with gloom the hall
Of him to whom ye sent us Pellam once
A Christless foe of thine as ever dashed
Horse against horse but seeing that thy realm
Hath prospered in the name of Christ the King
Took as in rival heat to holy things
And finds himself descended from the Saint
Arimathaean Joseph him who first
Brought the great faith to Britain over seas
He boasts his life as purer than thine own
Eats scarce enow to keep his pulse abeat
Hath pushed aside his faithful wife nor lets
Or dame or damsel enter at his gates
Lest he should be polluted This gray King
Showed us a shrine wherein were wonders yea 
Rich arks with priceless bones of martyrdom
Thorns of the crown and shivers of the cross
And therewithal for thus he told us brought
By holy Joseph thither that same spear
Wherewith the Roman pierced the side of Christ
He much amazed us after when we sought
The tribute answered 'I have quite foregone
All matters of this world Garlon mine heir
Of him demand it' which this Garlon gave
With much ado railing at thine and thee
But when we left in those deep woods we found
A knight of thine spear-stricken from behind
Dead whom we buried more than one of us
Cried out on Garlon but a woodman there
Reported of some demon in the woods
Was once a man who driven by evil tongues
From all his fellows lived alone and came
To learn black magic and to hate his kind
With such a hate that when he died his soul
Became a Fiend which as the man in life
Was wounded by blind tongues he saw not whence
Strikes from behind This woodman showed the cave
From which he sallies and wherein he dwelt
We saw the hoof-print of a horse no more
Then Arthur Let who goes before me see
He do not fall behind me foully slain
And villainously who will hunt for me
This demon of the woods Said Balan I
So claimed the quest and rode away but first
Embracing Balin Good my brother hear
Let not thy moods prevail when I am gone
Who used to lay them hold them outer fiends
Who leap at thee to tear thee shake them aside
Dreams ruling when wit sleeps yea but to dream
That any of these would wrong thee wrongs thyself
Witness their flowery welcome Bound are they
To speak no evil Truly save for fears
My fears for thee so rich a fellowship
Would make me wholly blest thou one of them
Be one indeed consider them and all
Their bearing in their common bond of love
No more of hatred than in Heaven itself
No more of jealousy than in Paradise
So Balan warned and went Balin remained
Who for but three brief moons had glanced away
From being knighted till he smote the thrall
And faded from the presence into years
Of exile now would strictlier set himself
To learn what Arthur meant by courtesy
Manhood and knighthood wherefore hovered round
Lancelot but when he marked his high sweet smile
In passing and a transitory word
Make knight or churl or child or damsel seem
From being smiled at happier in themselves 
Sighed as a boy lame-born beneath a height
That glooms his valley sighs to see the peak
Sun-flushed or touch at night the northern star
For one from out his village lately climed
And brought report of azure lands and fair
Far seen to left and right and he himself
Hath hardly scaled with help a hundred feet
Up from the base so Balin marvelling oft
How far beyond him Lancelot seemed to move
Groaned and at times would mutter These be gifts
Born with the blood not learnable divine
Beyond my reach Well had I foughten well 
In those fierce wars struck hard and had I crowned
With my slain self the heaps of whom I slew 
So better But this worship of the Queen
That honour too wherein she holds him this
This was the sunshine that hath given the man
A growth a name that branches o'er the rest
And strength against all odds and what the King
So prizes overprizes gentleness
Her likewise would I worship an I might
I never can be close with her as he
That brought her hither Shall I pray the King
To let me bear some token of his Queen
Whereon to gaze remembering her forget
My heats and violences live afresh
What if the Queen disdained to grant it nay
Being so stately-gentle would she make
My darkness blackness and with how sweet grace
She greeted my return Bold will I be 
Some goodly cognizance of Guinevere
In lieu of this rough beast upon my shield
Langued gules and toothed with grinning savagery
And Arthur when Sir Balin sought him said
What wilt thou bear Balin was bold and asked
To bear her own crown-royal upon shield
Whereat she smiled and turned her to the King
Who answered Thou shalt put the crown to use
The crown is but the shadow of the King
And this a shadow shadow let him have it
So this will help him of his violences
No shadow said Sir Balin O my Queen
But light to me no shadow O my King
But golden earnest of a gentler life
So Balin bare the crown and all the knights
Approved him and the Queen and all the world
Made music and he felt his being move
In music with his Order and the King
The nightingale full-toned in middle May
Hath ever and anon a note so thin
It seems another voice in other groves
Thus after some quick burst of sudden wrath
The music in him seemed to change and grow
His passion half had gauntleted to death
That causer of his banishment and shame
Smile at him as he deemed presumptuously
His arm half rose to strike again but fell
The memory of that cognizance on shield
Weighted it down but in himself he moaned
Too high this mount of Camelot for me
These high-set courtesies are not for me
Shall I not rather prove the worse for these
Fierier and stormier from restraining break
Into some madness even before the Queen
Thus as a hearth lit in a mountain home
And glancing on the window when the gloom
Of twilight deepens round it seems a flame
That rages in the woodland far below
So when his moods were darkened court and King
And all the kindly warmth of Arthur hall
Shadowed an angry distance yet he strove
To learn the graces of their Table fought
Hard with himself and seemed at length in peace
Then chanced one morning that Sir Balin sat
Close-bowered in that garden nigh the hall
A walk of roses ran from door to door
A walk of lilies crost it to the bower
And down that range of roses the great Queen
Came with slow steps the morning on her face
And all in shadow from the counter door
Sir Lancelot as to meet her then at once
As if he saw not glanced aside and paced
The long white walk of lilies toward the bower
Followed the Queen Sir Balin heard her Prince
Art thou so little loyal to thy Queen
As pass without good morrow to thy Queen
To whom Sir Lancelot with his eyes on earth
Fain would I still be loyal to the Queen
Yea so she said but so to pass me by 
So loyal scarce is loyal to thyself
Whom all men rate the king of courtesy
Let be ye stand fair lord as in a dream
Then Lancelot with his hand among the flowers
Yea for a dream Last night methought I saw
That maiden Saint who stands with lily in hand
In yonder shrine All round her prest the dark
And all the light upon her silver face
Flowed from the spiritual lily that she held
Lo these her emblems drew mine eyes away
For see how perfect-pure As light a flush
As hardly tints the blossom of the quince
Would mar their charm of stainless maidenhood
Sweeter to me she said this garden rose
Deep-hued and many-folded sweeter still
The wild-wood hyacinth and the bloom of May
Prince we have ridden before among the flowers
In those fair days not all as cool as these
Though season-earlier Art thou sad or sick
Our noble King will send thee his own leech 
Sick or for any matter angered at me
Then Lancelot lifted his large eyes they dwelt
Deep-tranced on hers and could not fall her hue
Changed at his gaze so turning side by side
They past and Balin started from his bower
Queen subject but I see not what I see
Damsel and lover hear not what I hear
My father hath begotten me in his wrath
I suffer from the things before me know
Learn nothing am not worthy to be knight
A churl a clown and in him gloom on gloom
Deepened he sharply caught his lance and shield
Nor stayed to crave permission of the King
But mad for strange adventure dashed away
He took the selfsame track as Balan saw
The fountain where they sat together sighed
Was I not better there with him and rode
The skyless woods but under open blue
Came on the hoarhead woodman at a bough
Wearily hewing Churl thine axe he cried
Descended and disjointed it at a blow
To whom the woodman uttered wonderingly
Lord thou couldst lay the Devil of these woods
If arm of flesh could lay him Balin cried
Him or the viler devil who plays his part
To lay that devil would lay the Devil in me
Nay said the churl our devil is a truth
I saw the flash of him but yestereven
And some do say that our Sir Garlon too
Hath learned black magic and to ride unseen
Look to the cave But Balin answered him
Old fabler these be fancies of the churl
Look to thy woodcraft and so leaving him
Now with slack rein and careless of himself
Now with dug spur and raving at himself
Now with droopt brow down the long glades he rode
So marked not on his right a cavern-chasm
Yawn over darkness where nor far within
The whole day died but dying gleamed on rocks
Roof-pendent sharp and others from the floor
Tusklike arising made that mouth of night
Whereout the Demon issued up from Hell
He marked not this but blind and deaf to all
Save that chained rage which ever yelpt within
Past eastward from the falling sun At once
He felt the hollow-beaten mosses thud
And tremble and then the shadow of a spear
Shot from behind him ran along the ground
Sideways he started from the path and saw
With pointed lance as if to pierce a shape
A light of armour by him flash and pass
And vanish in the woods and followed this
But all so blind in rage that unawares
He burst his lance against a forest bough
Dishorsed himself and rose again and fled
Far till the castle of a King the hall
Of Pellam lichen-bearded grayly draped
With streaming grass appeared low-built but strong
The ruinous donjon as a knoll of moss
The battlement overtopt with ivytods
A home of bats in every tower an owl
Then spake the men of Pellam crying Lord
Why wear ye this crown-royal upon shield
Said Balin For the fairest and the best
Of ladies living gave me this to bear
So stalled his horse and strode across the court
But found the greetings both of knight and King
Faint in the low dark hall of banquet leaves
Laid their green faces flat against the panes
Sprays grated and the cankered boughs without
Whined in the wood for all was hushed within
Till when at feast Sir Garlon likewise asked
Why wear ye that crown-royal Balin said
The Queen we worship Lancelot I and all
As fairest best and purest granted me
To bear it Such a sound for Arthur knights
Were hated strangers in the hall as makes
The white swan-mother sitting when she hears
A strange knee rustle through her secret reeds
Made Garlon hissing then he sourly smiled
Fairest I grant her I have seen but best
Best purest thou from Arthur hall and yet
So simple hast thou eyes or if are these
So far besotted that they fail to see
This fair wife-worship cloaks a secret shame
Truly ye men of Arthur be but babes
A goblet on the board by Balin bossed
With holy Joseph legend on his right
Stood all of massiest bronze one side had sea
And ship and sail and angels blowing on it
And one was rough with wattling and the walls
Of that low church he built at Glastonbury
This Balin graspt but while in act to hurl
Through memory of that token on the shield
Relaxed his hold I will be gentle he thought
And passing gentle caught his hand away
Then fiercely to Sir Garlon Eyes have I
That saw today the shadow of a spear
Shot from behind me run along the ground
Eyes too that long have watched how Lancelot draws
From homage to the best and purest might
Name manhood and a grace but scantly thine
Who sitting in thine own hall canst endure
To mouth so huge a foulness to thy guest
Me me of Arthur Table Felon talk
The scorn of Garlon poisoning all his rest
Stung him in dreams At length and dim through leaves
Blinkt the white morn sprays grated and old boughs
Whined in the wood He rose descended met
The scorner in the castle court and fain
For hate and loathing would have past him by
But when Sir Garlon uttered mocking-wise
What wear ye still that same crown-scandalous
His countenance blackened and his forehead veins
Bloated and branched and tearing out of sheath
The brand Sir Balin with a fiery Ha
So thou be shadow here I make thee ghost
Hard upon helm smote him and the blade flew
Splintering in six and clinkt upon the stones
Then Garlon reeling slowly backward fell
And Balin by the banneret of his helm
Dragged him and struck but from the castle a cry
Sounded across the court and men-at-arms
A score with pointed lances making at him 
He dashed the pummel at the foremost face
Beneath a low door dipt and made his feet
Wings through a glimmering gallery till he marked
The portal of King Pellam chapel wide
And inward to the wall he stept behind
Thence in a moment heard them pass like wolves
Howling but while he stared about the shrine
In which he scarce could spy the Christ for Saints
Beheld before a golden altar lie
The longest lance his eyes had ever seen
Point-painted red and seizing thereupon
Pushed through an open casement down leaned on it
Leapt in a semicircle and lit on earth
Then hand at ear and harkening from what side
The blindfold rummage buried in the walls
Might echo ran the counter path and found
His charger mounted on him and away
An arrow whizzed to the right one to the left
One overhead and Pellam feeble cry
Stay stay him he defileth heavenly things
With earthly uses made him quickly dive
Beneath the boughs and race through many a mile
Of dense and open till his goodly horse
Arising wearily at a fallen oak
Stumbled headlong and cast him face to ground
Half-wroth he had not ended but all glad
Knightlike to find his charger yet unlamed
Sir Balin drew the shield from off his neck
Stared at the priceless cognizance and thought
I have shamed thee so that now thou shamest me
Thee will I bear no more high on a branch
Hung it and turned aside into the woods
And there in gloom cast himself all along
Moaning My violences my violences
But now the wholesome music of the wood
Was dumbed by one from out the hall of Mark
A damsel-errant warbling as she rode
The woodland alleys Vivien with her Squire
The fire of Heaven has killed the barren cold
And kindled all the plain and all the wold
The new leaf ever pushes off the old
The fire of Heaven is not the flame of Hell
Old priest who mumble worship in your quire 
Old monk and nun ye scorn the world desire
Yet in your frosty cells ye feel the fire
The fire of Heaven is not the flame of Hell
The fire of Heaven is on the dusty ways
The wayside blossoms open to the blaze
The whole wood-world is one full peal of praise
The fire of Heaven is not the flame of Hell
The fire of Heaven is lord of all things good
And starve not thou this fire within thy blood
But follow Vivien through the fiery flood
The fire of Heaven is not the flame of Hell
Then turning to her Squire This fire of Heaven
This old sun-worship boy will rise again
And beat the cross to earth and break the King
Where under one long lane of cloudless air
Before another wood the royal crown
Sparkled and swaying upon a restless elm
Drew the vague glance of Vivien and her Squire
Amazed were these Lo there she cried a crown 
Borne by some high lord-prince of Arthur hall
And there a horse the rider where is he
See yonder lies one dead within the wood
Not dead he stirs but sleeping I will speak
Hail royal knight we break on thy sweet rest
Not doubtless all unearned by noble deeds
But bounden art thou if from Arthur hall
To help the weak Behold I fly from shame
A lustful King who sought to win my love
Through evil ways the knight with whom I rode
Hath suffered misadventure and my squire
Hath in him small defence but thou Sir Prince
Wilt surely guide me to the warrior King
Arthur the blameless pure as any maid
To get me shelter for my maidenhood
I charge thee by that crown upon thy shield
And by the great Queen name arise and hence
And Balin rose Thither no more nor Prince
Nor knight am I but one that hath defamed
The cognizance she gave me here I dwell
Savage among the savage woods here die 
Die let the wolves' black maws ensepulchre
Their brother beast whose anger was his lord
O me that such a name as Guinevere's
Which our high Lancelot hath so lifted up
And been thereby uplifted should through me
My violence and my villainy come to shame
Thereat she suddenly laughed and shrill anon
Sighed all as suddenly Said Balin to her
Is this thy courtesy to mock me ha
Hence for I will not with thee Again she sighed
Pardon sweet lord we maidens often laugh
When sick at heart when rather we should weep
I knew thee wronged I brake upon thy rest
And now full loth am I to break thy dream
But thou art man and canst abide a truth
Though bitter Hither boy and mark me well
Dost thou remember at Caerleon once 
A year ago nay then I love thee not 
Ay thou rememberest well one summer dawn 
By the great tower Caerleon upon Usk 
Nay truly we were hidden this fair lord
The flower of all their vestal knighthood knelt
In amorous homage knelt what else O ay
Knelt and drew down from out his night-black hair
And mumbled that white hand whose ringed caress
Had wandered from her own King golden head
And lost itself in darkness till she cried 
I thought the great tower would crash down on both 
'Rise my sweet King and kiss me on the lips
Thou art my King' This lad whose lightest word
Is mere white truth in simple nakedness
Saw them embrace he reddens cannot speak
So bashful he but all the maiden Saints
The deathless mother-maidenhood of Heaven
Cry out upon her Up then ride with me
Talk not of shame thou canst not an thou would'st
Do these more shame than these have done themselves
She lied with ease but horror-stricken he
Remembering that dark bower at Camelot
Breathed in a dismal whisper It is truth
Sunnily she smiled And even in this lone wood
Sweet lord ye do right well to whisper this
Fools prate and perish traitors Woods have tongues
As walls have ears but thou shalt go with me
And we will speak at first exceeding low
Meet is it the good King be not deceived
See now I set thee high on vantage ground
From whence to watch the time and eagle-like
Stoop at thy will on Lancelot and the Queen
She ceased his evil spirit upon him leapt
He ground his teeth together sprang with a yell
Tore from the branch and cast on earth the shield
Drove his mailed heel athwart the royal crown
Stampt all into defacement hurled it from him
Among the forest weeds and cursed the tale
Unearthlier than all shriek of bird or beast
Thrilled through the woods and Balan lurking there
His quest was unaccomplished heard and thought
The scream of that Wood-devil I came to quell
Then nearing Lo he hath slain some brother-knight
And tramples on the goodly shield to show
His loathing of our Order and the Queen
My quest meseems is here Or devil or man
Guard thou thine head Sir Balin spake not word
But snatched a sudden buckler from the Squire
And vaulted on his horse and so they crashed
In onset and King Pellam holy spear
Reputed to be red with sinless blood
Redded at once with sinful for the point
Across the maiden shield of Balan pricked
The hauberk to the flesh and Balin horse
Was wearied to the death and when they clashed
Rolling back upon Balin crushed the man
Inward and either fell and swooned away
Then to her Squire muttered the damsel Fools
This fellow hath wrought some foulness with his Queen
Else never had he borne her crown nor raved
And thus foamed over at a rival name
But thou Sir Chick that scarce hast broken shell
Art yet half-yolk not even come to down 
Who never sawest Caerleon upon Usk 
And yet hast often pleaded for my love 
See what I see be thou where I have been
Or else Sir Chick dismount and loose their casques
I fain would know what manner of men they be
And when the Squire had loosed them Goodly look
They might have cropt the myriad flower of May
And butt each other here like brainless bulls
I hold them happy so they died for love
And Vivien though ye beat me like your dog
I too could die as now I live for thee
Live on Sir Boy she cried I better prize
The living dog than the dead lion away
I cannot brook to gaze upon the dead
Then leapt her palfrey o'er the fallen oak
And bounding forward Leave them to the wolves
But when their foreheads felt the cooling air
Balin first woke and seeing that true face
Familiar up from cradle-time so wan
Crawled slowly with low moans to where he lay
And on his dying brother cast himself
Dying and he lifted faint eyes he felt
One near him all at once they found the world
Staring wild-wide then with a childlike wail
And drawing down the dim disastrous brow
That o'er him hung he kissed it moaned and spake
O Balin Balin I that fain had died
To save thy life have brought thee to thy death
Why had ye not the shield I knew and why
Trampled ye thus on that which bare the Crown
Then Balin told him brokenly and in gasps
All that had chanced and Balan moaned again
Brother I dwelt a day in Pellam hall
This Garlon mocked me but I heeded not
And one said 'Eat in peace a liar is he
And hates thee for the tribute' this good knight
Told me that twice a wanton damsel came
And sought for Garlon at the castle-gates
Whom Pellam drove away with holy heat
I well believe this damsel and the one
Who stood beside thee even now the same
'She dwells among the woods' he said 'and meets
And dallies with him in the Mouth of Hell
Foul are their lives foul are their lips they lied
Pure as our own true Mother is our Queen
O brother answered Balin woe is me
My madness all thy life has been thy doom
Thy curse and darkened all thy day and now
The night has come I scarce can see thee now
Goodnight for we shall never bid again
Goodmorrow Dark my doom was here and dark
It will be there I see thee now no more
I would not mine again should darken thine
Goodnight true brother here goodmorrow there
We two were born together and we die
Together by one doom and while he spoke
Closed his death-drowsing eyes and slept the sleep
With Balin either locked in either arm
A storm was coming but the winds were still
And in the wild woods of Broceliande
Before an oak so hollow huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork
At Merlin feet the wily Vivien lay
For he that always bare in bitter grudge
The slights of Arthur and his Table Mark
The Cornish King had heard a wandering voice
A minstrel of Caerleon by strong storm
Blown into shelter at Tintagil say
That out of naked knightlike purity
Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl
But the great Queen herself fought in her name
Sware by her vows like theirs that high in heaven
Love most but neither marry nor are given
In marriage angels of our Lord report
He ceased and then for Vivien sweetly said
She sat beside the banquet nearest Mark
And is the fair example followed Sir
In Arthur household answered innocently
Ay by some few ay truly youths that hold
It more beseems the perfect virgin knight
To worship woman as true wife beyond
All hopes of gaining than as maiden girl
They place their pride in Lancelot and the Queen
So passionate for an utter purity
Beyond the limit of their bond are these
For Arthur bound them not to singleness
Brave hearts and clean and yet God guide them young
Then Mark was half in heart to hurl his cup
Straight at the speaker but forbore he rose
To leave the hall and Vivien following him
Turned to her Here are snakes within the grass
And you methinks O Vivien save ye fear
The monkish manhood and the mask of pure
Worn by this court can stir them till they sting
And Vivien answered smiling scornfully
Why fear because that fostered at thy court
I savour of thy virtues fear them no
As Love if Love is perfect casts out fear
So Hate if Hate is perfect casts out fear
My father died in battle against the King
My mother on his corpse in open field
She bore me there for born from death was I
Among the dead and sown upon the wind 
And then on thee and shown the truth betimes
That old true filth and bottom of the well
Where Truth is hidden Gracious lessons thine
And maxims of the mud 'This Arthur pure
Great Nature through the flesh herself hath made
Gives him the lie There is no being pure
My cherub saith not Holy Writ the same' 
If I were Arthur I would have thy blood
Thy blessing stainless King I bring thee back
When I have ferreted out their burrowings
The hearts of all this Order in mine hand 
Ay so that fate and craft and folly close
Perchance one curl of Arthur golden beard
To me this narrow grizzled fork of thine
Is cleaner-fashioned Well I loved thee first
But Vivien into Camelot stealing lodged
Low in the city and on a festal day
When Guinevere was crossing the great hall
Cast herself down knelt to the Queen and wailed
Why kneel ye there What evil hath ye wrought
Rise and the damsel bidden rise arose
And stood with folded hands and downward eyes
Of glancing corner and all meekly said
None wrought but suffered much an orphan maid
My father died in battle for thy King
My mother on his corpse in open field
The sad sea-sounding wastes of Lyonnesse 
Poor wretch no friend and now by Mark the King
For that small charm of feature mine pursued 
If any such be mine I fly to thee
Save save me thou Woman of women thine
The wreath of beauty thine the crown of power
Be thine the balm of pity O Heaven own white
Earth-angel stainless bride of stainless King 
Help for he follows take me to thyself
O yield me shelter for mine innocency
Fear-tremulous but humbly hopeful rose
Fixt on her hearer while the Queen who stood
All glittering like May sunshine on May leaves
In green and gold and plumed with green replied
Peace child of overpraise and overblame
We choose the last Our noble Arthur him
Ye scarce can overpraise will hear and know
Nay we believe all evil of thy Mark 
Well we shall test thee farther but this hour
We ride a-hawking with Sir Lancelot
He hath given us a fair falcon which he trained
We go to prove it Bide ye here the while
She past and Vivien murmured after Go
I bide the while Then through the portal-arch
Peering askance and muttering broken-wise
As one that labours with an evil dream
Beheld the Queen and Lancelot get to horse
Is that the Lancelot goodly ay but gaunt
Courteous amends for gauntness takes her hand 
That glance of theirs but for the street had been
A clinging kiss how hand lingers in hand
Let go at last they ride away to hawk
For waterfowl Royaller game is mine
For such a supersensual sensual bond
As that gray cricket chirpt of at our hearth 
Touch flax with flame a glance will serve the liars
Ah little rat that borest in the dyke
Thy hole by night to let the boundless deep
Down upon far-off cities while they dance 
Or dream of thee they dreamed not nor of me
These ay but each of either ride and dream
The mortal dream that never yet was mine 
Ride ride and dream until ye wake to me
Then narrow court and lubber King farewell
For Lancelot will be gracious to the rat
And our wise Queen if knowing that I know
Will hate loathe fear but honour me the more
Yet while they rode together down the plain
Their talk was all of training terms of art
Diet and seeling jesses leash and lure
She is too noble he said to check at pies
Nor will she rake there is no baseness in her
Here when the Queen demanded as by chance
Know ye the stranger woman Let her be
Said Lancelot and unhooded casting off
The goodly falcon free she towered her bells
Tone under tone shrilled and they lifted up
Their eager faces wondering at the strength
Boldness and royal knighthood of the bird
Who pounced her quarry and slew it Many a time
As once of old among the flowers they rode
But Vivien half-forgotten of the Queen
Among her damsels broidering sat heard watched
And whispered through the peaceful court she crept
And whispered then as Arthur in the highest
Leavened the world so Vivien in the lowest
Arriving at a time of golden rest
And sowing one ill hint from ear to ear
While all the heathen lay at Arthur feet
And no quest came but all was joust and play
Leavened his hall They heard and let her be
Thereafter as an enemy that has left
Death in the living waters and withdrawn
The wily Vivien stole from Arthur court
She hated all the knights and heard in thought
Their lavish comment when her name was named
For once when Arthur walking all alone
Vext at a rumour issued from herself
Of some corruption crept among his knights
Had met her Vivien being greeted fair
Would fain have wrought upon his cloudy mood
With reverent eyes mock-loyal shaken voice
And fluttered adoration and at last
With dark sweet hints of some who prized him more
Than who should prize him most at which the King
Had gazed upon her blankly and gone by
But one had watched and had not held his peace
It made the laughter of an afternoon
That Vivien should attempt the blameless King
And after that she set herself to gain
Him the most famous man of all those times
Merlin who knew the range of all their arts
Had built the King his havens ships and halls
Was also Bard and knew the starry heavens
The people called him Wizard whom at first
She played about with slight and sprightly talk
And vivid smiles and faintly-venomed points
Of slander glancing here and grazing there
And yielding to his kindlier moods the Seer
Would watch her at her petulance and play
Even when they seemed unloveable and laugh
As those that watch a kitten thus he grew
Tolerant of what he half disdained and she
Perceiving that she was but half disdained
Began to break her sports with graver fits
Turn red or pale would often when they met
Sigh fully or all-silent gaze upon him
With such a fixt devotion that the old man
Though doubtful felt the flattery and at times
Would flatter his own wish in age for love
And half believe her true for thus at times
He wavered but that other clung to him
Fixt in her will and so the seasons went
Then fell on Merlin a great melancholy
He walked with dreams and darkness and he found
A doom that ever poised itself to fall
An ever-moaning battle in the mist
World-war of dying flesh against the life
Death in all life and lying in all love
The meanest having power upon the highest
And the high purpose broken by the worm
So leaving Arthur court he gained the beach
There found a little boat and stept into it
And Vivien followed but he marked her not
She took the helm and he the sail the boat
Drave with a sudden wind across the deeps
And touching Breton sands they disembarked
And then she followed Merlin all the way
Even to the wild woods of Broceliande
For Merlin once had told her of a charm
The which if any wrought on anyone
With woven paces and with waving arms
The man so wrought on ever seemed to lie
Closed in the four walls of a hollow tower
From which was no escape for evermore
And none could find that man for evermore
Nor could he see but him who wrought the charm
Coming and going and he lay as dead
And lost to life and use and name and fame
And Vivien ever sought to work the charm
Upon the great Enchanter of the Time
As fancying that her glory would be great
According to his greatness whom she quenched
There lay she all her length and kissed his feet
As if in deepest reverence and in love
A twist of gold was round her hair a robe
Of samite without price that more exprest
Than hid her clung about her lissome limbs
In colour like the satin-shining palm
On sallows in the windy gleams of March
And while she kissed them crying Trample me
Dear feet that I have followed through the world
And I will pay you worship tread me down
And I will kiss you for it he was mute
So dark a forethought rolled about his brain
As on a dull day in an Ocean cave
The blind wave feeling round his long sea-hall
In silence wherefore when she lifted up
A face of sad appeal and spake and said
O Merlin do ye love me and again
O Merlin do ye love me and once more
Great Master do ye love me he was mute
And lissome Vivien holding by his heel
Writhed toward him slided up his knee and sat
Behind his ankle twined her hollow feet
Together curved an arm about his neck
Clung like a snake and letting her left hand
Droop from his mighty shoulder as a leaf
Made with her right a comb of pearl to part
The lists of such a board as youth gone out
Had left in ashes then he spoke and said
Not looking at her Who are wise in love
Love most say least and Vivien answered quick
I saw the little elf-god eyeless once
In Arthur arras hall at Camelot
But neither eyes nor tongue O stupid child
Yet you are wise who say it let me think
Silence is wisdom I am silent then
And ask no kiss then adding all at once
And lo I clothe myself with wisdom drew
The vast and shaggy mantle of his beard
Across her neck and bosom to her knee
And called herself a gilded summer fly
Caught in a great old tyrant spider web
Who meant to eat her up in that wild wood
Without one word So Vivien called herself
But rather seemed a lovely baleful star
Veiled in gray vapour till he sadly smiled
To what request for what strange boon he said
Are these your pretty tricks and fooleries
O Vivien the preamble yet my thanks
For these have broken up my melancholy
And Vivien answered smiling saucily
What O my Master have ye found your voice
I bid the stranger welcome Thanks at last
But yesterday you never opened lip
Except indeed to drink no cup had we
In mine own lady palms I culled the spring
That gathered trickling dropwise from the cleft
And made a pretty cup of both my hands
And offered you it kneeling then you drank
And knew no more nor gave me one poor word
O no more thanks than might a goat have given
With no more sign of reverence than a beard
And when we halted at that other well
And I was faint to swooning and you lay
Foot-gilt with all the blossom-dust of those
Deep meadows we had traversed did you know
That Vivien bathed your feet before her own
And yet no thanks and all through this wild wood
And all this morning when I fondled you
Boon ay there was a boon one not so strange 
How had I wronged you surely ye are wise
But such a silence is more wise than kind
And Merlin locked his hand in hers and said
O did ye never lie upon the shore
And watch the curled white of the coming wave
Glassed in the slippery sand before it breaks
Even such a wave but not so pleasurable
Dark in the glass of some presageful mood
Had I for three days seen ready to fall
And then I rose and fled from Arthur court
To break the mood You followed me unasked
And when I looked and saw you following me still
My mind involved yourself the nearest thing
In that mind-mist for shall I tell you truth
You seemed that wave about to break upon me
And sweep me from my hold upon the world
My use and name and fame Your pardon child
Your pretty sports have brightened all again
And ask your boon for boon I owe you thrice
Once for wrong done you by confusion next
For thanks it seems till now neglected last
For these your dainty gambols wherefore ask
And take this boon so strange and not so strange
And Vivien answered smiling mournfully
O not so strange as my long asking it
Not yet so strange as you yourself are strange
Nor half so strange as that dark mood of yours
I ever feared ye were not wholly mine
And see yourself have owned ye did me wrong
The people call you prophet let it be
But not of those that can expound themselves
Take Vivien for expounder she will call
That three-days-long presageful gloom of yours
No presage but the same mistrustful mood
That makes you seem less noble than yourself
Whenever I have asked this very boon
Now asked again for see you not dear love
That such a mood as that which lately gloomed
Your fancy when ye saw me following you
Must make me fear still more you are not mine
Must make me yearn still more to prove you mine
And make me wish still more to learn this charm
Of woven paces and of waving hands
As proof of trust O Merlin teach it me
The charm so taught will charm us both to rest
For grant me some slight power upon your fate
I feeling that you felt me worthy trust
Should rest and let you rest knowing you mine
And therefore be as great as ye are named
Not muffled round with selfish reticence
How hard you look and how denyingly
O if you think this wickedness in me
That I should prove it on you unawares
That makes me passing wrathful then our bond
Had best be loosed for ever but think or not
By Heaven that hears I tell you the clean truth
As clean as blood of babes as white as milk
O Merlin may this earth if ever I
If these unwitty wandering wits of mine
Even in the jumbled rubbish of a dream
Have tript on such conjectural treachery 
May this hard earth cleave to the Nadir hell
Down down and close again and nip me flat
If I be such a traitress Yield my boon
Till which I scarce can yield you all I am
And grant my re-reiterated wish
The great proof of your love because I think
However wise ye hardly know me yet
And Merlin loosed his hand from hers and said
I never was less wise however wise
Too curious Vivien though you talk of trust
Than when I told you first of such a charm
Yea if ye talk of trust I tell you this
Too much I trusted when I told you that
And stirred this vice in you which ruined man
Through woman the first hour for howsoe'er
In children a great curiousness be well
Who have to learn themselves and all the world
In you that are no child for still I find
Your face is practised when I spell the lines
I call it well I will not call it vice
But since you name yourself the summer fly
I well could wish a cobweb for the gnat
That settles beaten back and beaten back
Settles till one could yield for weariness
But since I will not yield to give you power
Upon my life and use and name and fame
Why will ye never ask some other boon
Yea by God rood I trusted you too much
And Vivien like the tenderest-hearted maid
That ever bided tryst at village stile
Made answer either eyelid wet with tears
Nay Master be not wrathful with your maid
Caress her let her feel herself forgiven
Who feels no heart to ask another boon
I think ye hardly know the tender rhyme
Of 'trust me not at all or all in all
I heard the great Sir Lancelot sing it once
And it shall answer for me Listen to it
'In Love if Love be Love if Love be ours
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all
'It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute
And ever widening slowly silence all
'The little rift within the lover lute
Or little pitted speck in garnered fruit
That rotting inward slowly moulders all
'It is not worth the keeping let it go
But shall it answer darling answer no
And trust me not at all or all in all
O Master do ye love my tender rhyme
And Merlin looked and half believed her true
So tender was her voice so fair her face
So sweetly gleamed her eyes behind her tears
Like sunlight on the plain behind a shower
And yet he answered half indignantly
Far other was the song that once I heard
By this huge oak sung nearly where we sit
For here we met some ten or twelve of us
To chase a creature that was current then
In these wild woods the hart with golden horns
It was the time when first the question rose
About the founding of a Table Round
That was to be for love of God and men
And noble deeds the flower of all the world
And each incited each to noble deeds
And while we waited one the youngest of us
We could not keep him silent out he flashed
And into such a song such fire for fame
Such trumpet-glowings in it coming down
To such a stern and iron-clashing close
That when he stopt we longed to hurl together
And should have done it but the beauteous beast
Scared by the noise upstarted at our feet
And like a silver shadow slipt away
Through the dim land and all day long we rode
Through the dim land against a rushing wind
That glorious roundel echoing in our ears
And chased the flashes of his golden horns
Till they vanished by the fairy well
That laughs at iron as our warriors did 
Where children cast their pins and nails and cry
'Laugh little well' but touch it with a sword
It buzzes fiercely round the point and there
We lost him such a noble song was that
But Vivien when you sang me that sweet rhyme
I felt as though you knew this cursed charm
Were proving it on me and that I lay
And felt them slowly ebbing name and fame
And Vivien answered smiling mournfully
O mine have ebbed away for evermore
And all through following you to this wild wood
Because I saw you sad to comfort you
Lo now what hearts have men they never mount
As high as woman in her selfless mood
And touching fame howe'er ye scorn my song
Take one verse more the lady speaks it this
'My name once mine now thine is closelier mine
For fame could fame be mine that fame were thine
And shame could shame be thine that shame were mine
So trust me not at all or all in all
Says she not well and there is more this rhyme
Is like the fair pearl-necklace of the Queen
That burst in dancing and the pearls were spilt
Some lost some stolen some as relics kept
But nevermore the same two sister pearls
Ran down the silken thread to kiss each other
On her white neck so is it with this rhyme
It lives dispersedly in many hands
And every minstrel sings it differently
Yet is there one true line the pearl of pearls
'Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love
Yea Love though Love were of the grossest carves
A portion from the solid present eats
And uses careless of the rest but Fame
The Fame that follows death is nothing to us
And what is Fame in life but half-disfame
And counterchanged with darkness ye yourself
Know well that Envy calls you Devil son
And since ye seem the Master of all Art
They fain would make you Master of all vice
And Merlin locked his hand in hers and said
I once was looking for a magic weed
And found a fair young squire who sat alone
Had carved himself a knightly shield of wood
And then was painting on it fancied arms
Azure an Eagle rising or the Sun
In dexter chief the scroll 'I follow fame
And speaking not but leaning over him
I took his brush and blotted out the bird
And made a Gardener putting in a graff
With this for motto 'Rather use than fame
You should have seen him blush but afterwards
He made a stalwart knight O Vivien
For you methinks you think you love me well
For me I love you somewhat rest and Love
Should have some rest and pleasure in himself
Not ever be too curious for a boon
Too prurient for a proof against the grain
Of him ye say ye love but Fame with men
Being but ampler means to serve mankind
Should have small rest or pleasure in herself
But work as vassal to the larger love
That dwarfs the petty love of one to one
Use gave me Fame at first and Fame again
Increasing gave me use Lo there my boon
What other for men sought to prove me vile
Because I fain had given them greater wits
And then did Envy call me Devil son
The sick weak beast seeking to help herself
By striking at her better missed and brought
Her own claw back and wounded her own heart
Sweet were the days when I was all unknown
But when my name was lifted up the storm
Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it
Right well know I that Fame is half-disfame
Yet needs must work my work That other fame
To one at least who hath not children vague
The cackle of the unborn about the grave
I cared not for it a single misty star
Which is the second in a line of stars
That seem a sword beneath a belt of three
I never gazed upon it but I dreamt
Of some vast charm concluded in that star
To make fame nothing Wherefore if I fear
Giving you power upon me through this charm
That you might play me falsely having power
However well ye think ye love me now
As sons of kings loving in pupilage
Have turned to tyrants when they came to power
I rather dread the loss of use than fame
If you and not so much from wickedness
As some wild turn of anger or a mood
Of overstrained affection it may be
To keep me all to your own self or else
A sudden spurt of woman jealousy 
Should try this charm on whom ye say ye love
And Vivien answered smiling as in wrath
Have I not sworn I am not trusted Good
Well hide it hide it I shall find it out
And being found take heed of Vivien
A woman and not trusted doubtless I
Might feel some sudden turn of anger born
Of your misfaith and your fine epithet
Is accurate too for this full love of mine
Without the full heart back may merit well
Your term of overstrained So used as I
My daily wonder is I love at all
And as to woman jealousy O why not
O to what end except a jealous one
And one to make me jealous if I love
Was this fair charm invented by yourself
I well believe that all about this world
Ye cage a buxom captive here and there
Closed in the four walls of a hollow tower
From which is no escape for evermore
Then the great Master merrily answered her
Full many a love in loving youth was mine
I needed then no charm to keep them mine
But youth and love and that full heart of yours
Whereof ye prattle may now assure you mine
So live uncharmed For those who wrought it first
The wrist is parted from the hand that waved
The feet unmortised from their ankle-bones
Who paced it ages back but will ye hear
The legend as in guerdon for your rhyme
There lived a king in the most Eastern East
Less old than I yet older for my blood
Hath earnest in it of far springs to be
A tawny pirate anchored in his port
Whose bark had plundered twenty nameless isles
And passing one at the high peep of dawn
He saw two cities in a thousand boats
All fighting for a woman on the sea
And pushing his black craft among them all
He lightly scattered theirs and brought her off
With loss of half his people arrow-slain
A maid so smooth so white so wonderful
They said a light came from her when she moved
And since the pirate would not yield her up
The King impaled him for his piracy
Then made her Queen but those isle-nurtured eyes
Waged such unwilling though successful war
On all the youth they sickened councils thinned
And armies waned for magnet-like she drew
The rustiest iron of old fighters' hearts
And beasts themselves would worship camels knelt
Unbidden and the brutes of mountain back
That carry kings in castles bowed black knees
Of homage ringing with their serpent hands
To make her smile her golden ankle-bells
What wonder being jealous that he sent
His horns of proclamation out through all
The hundred under-kingdoms that he swayed
To find a wizard who might teach the King
Some charm which being wrought upon the Queen
Might keep her all his own to such a one
He promised more than ever king has given
A league of mountain full of golden mines
A province with a hundred miles of coast
A palace and a princess all for him
But on all those who tried and failed the King
Pronounced a dismal sentence meaning by it
To keep the list low and pretenders back
Or like a king not to be trifled with 
Their heads should moulder on the city gates
And many tried and failed because the charm
Of nature in her overbore their own
And many a wizard brow bleached on the walls
And many weeks a troop of carrion crows
Hung like a cloud above the gateway towers
And Vivien breaking in upon him said
I sit and gather honey yet methinks
Thy tongue has tript a little ask thyself
The lady never made unwilling war
With those fine eyes she had her pleasure in it
And made her good man jealous with good cause
And lived there neither dame nor damsel then
Wroth at a lover loss were all as tame
I mean as noble as the Queen was fair
Not one to flirt a venom at her eyes
Or pinch a murderous dust into her drink
Or make her paler with a poisoned rose
Well those were not our days but did they find
A wizard Tell me was he like to thee
She ceased and made her lithe arm round his neck
Tighten and then drew back and let her eyes
Speak for her glowing on him like a bride's
On her new lord her own the first of men
He answered laughing Nay not like to me
At last they found his foragers for charms 
A little glassy-headed hairless man
Who lived alone in a great wild on grass
Read but one book and ever reading grew
So grated down and filed away with thought
So lean his eyes were monstrous while the skin
Clung but to crate and basket ribs and spine
And since he kept his mind on one sole aim
Nor ever touched fierce wine nor tasted flesh
Nor owned a sensual wish to him the wall
That sunders ghosts and shadow-casting men
Became a crystal and he saw them through it
And heard their voices talk behind the wall
And learnt their elemental secrets powers
And forces often o'er the sun bright eye
Drew the vast eyelid of an inky cloud
And lashed it at the base with slanting storm
Or in the noon of mist and driving rain
When the lake whitened and the pinewood roared
And the cairned mountain was a shadow sunned
The world to peace again here was the man
And so by force they dragged him to the King
And then he taught the King to charm the Queen
In such-wise that no man could see her more
Nor saw she save the King who wrought the charm
Coming and going and she lay as dead
And lost all use of life but when the King
Made proffer of the league of golden mines
The province with a hundred miles of coast
The palace and the princess that old man
Went back to his old wild and lived on grass
And vanished and his book came down to me
And Vivien answered smiling saucily
Ye have the book the charm is written in it
Good take my counsel let me know it at once
For keep it like a puzzle chest in chest
With each chest locked and padlocked fold
And whelm all this beneath as vast a mound
As after furious battle turfs the slain
On some wild down above the windy deep
I yet should strike upon a sudden means
To dig pick open find and read the charm
Then if I tried it who should blame me then
And smiling as a master smiles at one
That is not of his school nor any school
But that where blind and naked Ignorance
Delivers brawling judgments unashamed
On all things all day long he answered her
Thou read the book my pretty Vivien
O ay it is but twenty pages long
But every page having an ample marge
And every marge enclosing in the midst
A square of text that looks a little blot
The text no larger than the limbs of fleas
And every square of text an awful charm
Writ in a language that has long gone by
So long that mountains have arisen since
With cities on their flanks thou read the book
And ever margin scribbled crost and crammed
With comment densest condensation hard
To mind and eye but the long sleepless nights
Of my long life have made it easy to me
And none can read the text not even I
And none can read the comment but myself
And in the comment did I find the charm
O the results are simple a mere child
Might use it to the harm of anyone
And never could undo it ask no more
For though you should not prove it upon me
But keep that oath ye sware ye might perchance
Assay it on some one of the Table Round
And all because ye dream they babble of you
And Vivien frowning in true anger said
What dare the full-fed liars say of me
They ride abroad redressing human wrongs
They sit with knife in meat and wine in horn
They bound to holy vows of chastity
Were I not woman I could tell a tale
But you are man you well can understand
The shame that cannot be explained for shame
Not one of all the drove should touch me swine
Then answered Merlin careless of her words
You breathe but accusation vast and vague
Spleen-born I think and proofless If ye know
Set up the charge ye know to stand or fall
And Vivien answered frowning wrathfully
O ay what say ye to Sir Valence him
Whose kinsman left him watcher o'er his wife
And two fair babes and went to distant lands
Was one year gone and on returning found
Not two but three there lay the reckling one
But one hour old What said the happy sire
A seven-months' babe had been a truer gift
Those twelve sweet moons confused his fatherhood
Then answered Merlin Nay I know the tale
Sir Valence wedded with an outland dame
Some cause had kept him sundered from his wife
One child they had it lived with her she died
His kinsman travelling on his own affair
Was charged by Valence to bring home the child
He brought not found it therefore take the truth
O ay said Vivien overtrue a tale
What say ye then to sweet Sir Sagramore
That ardent man 'to pluck the flower in season
So says the song 'I trow it is no treason
O Master shall we call him overquick
To crop his own sweet rose before the hour
And Merlin answered Overquick art thou
To catch a loathly plume fallen from the wing
Of that foul bird of rapine whose whole prey
Is man good name he never wronged his bride
I know the tale An angry gust of wind
Puffed out his torch among the myriad-roomed
And many-corridored complexities
Of Arthur palace then he found a door
And darkling felt the sculptured ornament
That wreathen round it made it seem his own
And wearied out made for the couch and slept
A stainless man beside a stainless maid
And either slept nor knew of other there
Till the high dawn piercing the royal rose
In Arthur casement glimmered chastely down
Blushing upon them blushing and at once
He rose without a word and parted from her
But when the thing was blazed about the court
The brute world howling forced them into bonds
And as it chanced they are happy being pure
O ay said Vivien that were likely too
What say ye then to fair Sir Percivale
And of the horrid foulness that he wrought
The saintly youth the spotless lamb of Christ
Or some black wether of St Satan fold
What in the precincts of the chapel-yard
Among the knightly brasses of the graves
And by the cold Hic Jacets of the dead
And Merlin answered careless of her charge
A sober man is Percivale and pure
But once in life was flustered with new wine
Then paced for coolness in the chapel-yard
Where one of Satan shepherdesses caught
And meant to stamp him with her master mark
And that he sinned is not believable
For look upon his face but if he sinned
The sin that practice burns into the blood
And not the one dark hour which brings remorse
Will brand us after of whose fold we be
Or else were he the holy king whose hymns
Are chanted in the minster worse than all
But is your spleen frothed out or have ye more
And Vivien answered frowning yet in wrath
O ay what say ye to Sir Lancelot friend
Traitor or true that commerce with the Queen
I ask you is it clamoured by the child
Or whispered in the corner do ye know it
To which he answered sadly Yea I know it
Sir Lancelot went ambassador at first
To fetch her and she watched him from her walls
A rumour runs she took him for the King
So fixt her fancy on him let them be
But have ye no one word of loyal praise
For Arthur blameless King and stainless man
She answered with a low and chuckling laugh
Man is he man at all who knows and winks
Sees what his fair bride is and does and winks
By which the good King means to blind himself
And blinds himself and all the Table Round
To all the foulness that they work Myself
Could call him were it not for womanhood
The pretty popular cause such manhood earns
Could call him the main cause of all their crime
Yea were he not crowned King coward and fool
Then Merlin to his own heart loathing said
O true and tender O my liege and King
O selfless man and stainless gentleman
Who wouldst against thine own eye-witness fain
Have all men true and leal all women pure
How in the mouths of base interpreters
From over-fineness not intelligible
To things with every sense as false and foul
As the poached filth that floods the middle street
Is thy white blamelessness accounted blame
But Vivien deeming Merlin overborne
By instance recommenced and let her tongue
Rage like a fire among the noblest names
Polluting and imputing her whole self
Defaming and defacing till she left
Not even Lancelot brave nor Galahad clean
Her words had issue other than she willed
He dragged his eyebrow bushes down and made
A snowy penthouse for his hollow eyes
And muttered in himself Tell her the charm
So if she had it would she rail on me
To snare the next and if she have it not
So will she rail What did the wanton say
'Not mount as high' we scarce can sink as low
For men at most differ as Heaven and earth
But women worst and best as Heaven and Hell
I know the Table Round my friends of old
All brave and many generous and some chaste
She cloaks the scar of some repulse with lies
I well believe she tempted them and failed
Being so bitter for fine plots may fail
Though harlots paint their talk as well as face
With colours of the heart that are not theirs
I will not let her know nine tithes of times
Face-flatterer and backbiter are the same
And they sweet soul that most impute a crime
Are pronest to it and impute themselves
Wanting the mental range or low desire
Not to feel lowest makes them level all
Yea they would pare the mountain to the plain
To leave an equal baseness and in this
Are harlots like the crowd that if they find
Some stain or blemish in a name of note
Not grieving that their greatest are so small
Inflate themselves with some insane delight
And judge all nature from her feet of clay
Without the will to lift their eyes and see
Her godlike head crowned with spiritual fire
And touching other worlds I am weary of her
He spoke in words part heard in whispers part
Half-suffocated in the hoary fell
And many-wintered fleece of throat and chin
But Vivien gathering somewhat of his mood
And hearing harlot muttered twice or thrice
Leapt from her session on his lap and stood
Stiff as a viper frozen loathsome sight
How from the rosy lips of life and love
Flashed the bare-grinning skeleton of death
White was her cheek sharp breaths of anger puffed
Her fairy nostril out her hand half-clenched
Went faltering sideways downward to her belt
And feeling had she found a dagger there
For in a wink the false love turns to hate
She would have stabbed him but she found it not
His eye was calm and suddenly she took
To bitter weeping like a beaten child
A long long weeping not consolable
Then her false voice made way broken with sobs
O crueller than was ever told in tale
Or sung in song O vainly lavished love
O cruel there was nothing wild or strange
Or seeming shameful for what shame in love
So love be true and not as yours is nothing
Poor Vivien had not done to win his trust
Who called her what he called her all her crime
All all the wish to prove him wholly hers
She mused a little and then clapt her hands
Together with a wailing shriek and said
Stabbed through the heart affections to the heart
Seethed like the kid in its own mother milk
Killed with a word worse than a life of blows
I thought that he was gentle being great
O God that I had loved a smaller man
I should have found in him a greater heart
O I that flattering my true passion saw
The knights the court the King dark in your light
Who loved to make men darker than they are
Because of that high pleasure which I had
To seat you sole upon my pedestal
Of worship I am answered and henceforth
The course of life that seemed so flowery to me
With you for guide and master only you
Becomes the sea-cliff pathway broken short
And ending in a ruin nothing left
But into some low cave to crawl and there
If the wolf spare me weep my life away
Killed with inutterable unkindliness
She paused she turned away she hung her head
The snake of gold slid from her hair the braid
Slipt and uncoiled itself she wept afresh
And the dark wood grew darker toward the storm
In silence while his anger slowly died
Within him till he let his wisdom go
For ease of heart and half believed her true
Called her to shelter in the hollow oak
Come from the storm and having no reply
Gazed at the heaving shoulder and the face
Hand-hidden as for utmost grief or shame
Then thrice essayed by tenderest-touching terms
To sleek her ruffled peace of mind in vain
At last she let herself be conquered by him
And as the cageling newly flown returns
The seeming-injured simple-hearted thing
Came to her old perch back and settled there
There while she sat half-falling from his knees
Half-nestled at his heart and since he saw
The slow tear creep from her closed eyelid yet
About her more in kindness than in love
The gentle wizard cast a shielding arm
But she dislinked herself at once and rose
Her arms upon her breast across and stood
A virtuous gentlewoman deeply wronged
Upright and flushed before him then she said
There must now be no passages of love
Betwixt us twain henceforward evermore
Since if I be what I am grossly called
What should be granted which your own gross heart
Would reckon worth the taking I will go
In truth but one thing now better have died
Thrice than have asked it once could make me stay 
That proof of trust so often asked in vain
How justly after that vile term of yours
I find with grief I might believe you then
Who knows once more Lo what was once to me
Mere matter of the fancy now hath grown
The vast necessity of heart and life
Farewell think gently of me for I fear
My fate or folly passing gayer youth
For one so old must be to love thee still
But ere I leave thee let me swear once more
That if I schemed against thy peace in this
May yon just heaven that darkens o'er me send
One flash that missing all things else may make
My scheming brain a cinder if I lie
Scarce had she ceased when out of heaven a bolt
For now the storm was close above them struck
Furrowing a giant oak and javelining
With darted spikes and splinters of the wood
The dark earth round He raised his eyes and saw
The tree that shone white-listed through the gloom
But Vivien fearing heaven had heard her oath
And dazzled by the livid-flickering fork
And deafened with the stammering cracks and claps
That followed flying back and crying out
O Merlin though you do not love me save
Yet save me clung to him and hugged him close
And called him dear protector in her fright
Nor yet forgot her practice in her fright
But wrought upon his mood and hugged him close
The pale blood of the wizard at her touch
Took gayer colours like an opal warmed
She blamed herself for telling hearsay tales
She shook from fear and for her fault she wept
Of petulancy she called him lord and liege
Her seer her bard her silver star of eve
Her God her Merlin the one passionate love
Of her whole life and ever overhead
Bellowed the tempest and the rotten branch
Snapt in the rushing of the river-rain
Above them and in change of glare and gloom
Her eyes and neck glittering went and came
Till now the storm its burst of passion spent
Moaning and calling out of other lands
Had left the ravaged woodland yet once more
To peace and what should not have been had been
For Merlin overtalked and overworn
Had yielded told her all the charm and slept
Then in one moment she put forth the charm
Of woven paces and of waving hands
And in the hollow oak he lay as dead
And lost to life and use and name and fame
Then crying I have made his glory mine
And shrieking out O fool the harlot leapt
Adown the forest and the thicket closed
Behind her and the forest echoed fool
Elaine the fair Elaine the loveable
Elaine the lily maid of Astolat
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot
Which first she placed where the morning earliest ray
Might strike it and awake her with the gleam
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct and added of her wit
A border fantasy of branch and flower
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest
Nor rested thus content but day by day
Leaving her household and good father climbed
That eastern tower and entering barred her door
Stript off the case and read the naked shield
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it
And every scratch a lance had made upon it
Conjecturing when and where this cut is fresh
That ten years back this dealt him at Caerlyle
That at Caerleon this at Camelot
And ah God mercy what a stroke was there
And here a thrust that might have killed but God
Broke the strong lance and rolled his enemy down
And saved him so she lived in fantasy
How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot she that knew not even his name
He left it with her when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts
Which Arthur had ordained and by that name
Had named them since a diamond was the prize
For Arthur long before they crowned him King
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse
Had found a glen gray boulder and black tarn
A horror lived about the tarn and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side
For here two brothers one a king had met
And fought together but their names were lost
And each had slain his brother at a blow
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached
And lichened into colour with the crags
And he that once was king had on a crown
Of diamonds one in front and four aside
And Arthur came and labouring up the pass
All in a misty moonshine unawares
Had trodden that crowned skeleton and the skull
Brake from the nape and from the skull the crown
Rolled into light and turning on its rims
Fled like a glittering rivulet to the tarn
And down the shingly scaur he plunged and caught
And set it on his head and in his heart
Heard murmurs Lo thou likewise shalt be King
Thereafter when a King he had the gems
Plucked from the crown and showed them to his knights
Saying These jewels whereupon I chanced
Divinely are the kingdom not the King 
For public use henceforward let there be
Once every year a joust for one of these
For so by nine years' proof we needs must learn
Which is our mightiest and ourselves shall grow
In use of arms and manhood till we drive
The heathen who some say shall rule the land
Hereafter which God hinder Thus he spoke
And eight years past eight jousts had been and still
Had Lancelot won the diamond of the year
With purpose to present them to the Queen
When all were won but meaning all at once
To snare her royal fancy with a boon
Worth half her realm had never spoken word
Now for the central diamond and the last
And largest Arthur holding then his court
Hard on the river nigh the place which now
Is this world hugest let proclaim a joust
At Camelot and when the time drew nigh
Spake for she had been sick to Guinevere
Are you so sick my Queen you cannot move
To these fair jousts Yea lord she said ye know it
Then will ye miss he answered the great deeds
Of Lancelot and his prowess in the lists
A sight ye love to look on And the Queen
Lifted her eyes and they dwelt languidly
On Lancelot where he stood beside the King
He thinking that he read her meaning there
Stay with me I am sick my love is more
Than many diamonds yielded and a heart
Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen
However much he yearned to make complete
The tale of diamonds for his destined boon
Urged him to speak against the truth and say
Sir King mine ancient wound is hardly whole
And lets me from the saddle and the King
Glanced first at him then her and went his way
No sooner gone than suddenly she began
To blame my lord Sir Lancelot much to blame
Why go ye not to these fair jousts the knights
Are half of them our enemies and the crowd
Will murmur 'Lo the shameless ones who take
Their pastime now the trustful King is gone'
Then Lancelot vext at having lied in vain
Are ye so wise ye were not once so wise
My Queen that summer when ye loved me first
Then of the crowd ye took no more account
Than of the myriad cricket of the mead
When its own voice clings to each blade of grass
And every voice is nothing As to knights
Them surely can I silence with all ease
But now my loyal worship is allowed
Of all men many a bard without offence
Has linked our names together in his lay
Lancelot the flower of bravery Guinevere
The pearl of beauty and our knights at feast
Have pledged us in this union while the King
Would listen smiling How then is there more
Has Arthur spoken aught or would yourself
Now weary of my service and devoir
Henceforth be truer to your faultless lord
She broke into a little scornful laugh
Arthur my lord Arthur the faultless King
That passionate perfection my good lord 
But who can gaze upon the Sun in heaven
He never spake word of reproach to me
He never had a glimpse of mine untruth
He cares not for me only here today
There gleamed a vague suspicion in his eyes
Some meddling rogue has tampered with him else
Rapt in this fancy of his Table Round
And swearing men to vows impossible
To make them like himself but friend to me
He is all fault who hath no fault at all
For who loves me must have a touch of earth
The low sun makes the colour I am yours
Not Arthur as ye know save by the bond
And therefore hear my words go to the jousts
The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break our dream
When sweetest and the vermin voices here
May buzz so loud we scorn them but they sting
Then answered Lancelot the chief of knights
And with what face after my pretext made
Shall I appear O Queen at Camelot I
Before a King who honours his own word
A moral child without the craft to rule
Else had he not lost me but listen to me
If I must find you wit we hear it said
That men go down before your spear at a touch
But knowing you are Lancelot your great name
This conquers hide it therefore go unknown
Win by this kiss you will and our true King
Will then allow your pretext O my knight
As all for glory for to speak him true
Ye know right well how meek soe'er he seem
No keener hunter after glory breathes
He loves it in his knights more than himself
They prove to him his work win and return
Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to horse
Wroth at himself Not willing to be known
He left the barren-beaten thoroughfare
Chose the green path that showed the rarer foot
And there among the solitary downs
Full often lost in fancy lost his way
Till as he traced a faintly-shadowed track
That all in loops and links among the dales
Ran to the Castle of Astolat he saw
Fired from the west far on a hill the towers
Thither he made and blew the gateway horn
Then came an old dumb myriad-wrinkled man
Who let him into lodging and disarmed
And Lancelot marvelled at the wordless man
And issuing found the Lord of Astolat
With two strong sons Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine
Moving to meet him in the castle court
And close behind them stept the lily maid
Elaine his daughter mother of the house
There was not some light jest among them rose
With laughter dying down as the great knight
Approached them then the Lord of Astolat
Whence comes thou my guest and by what name
Livest thou between the lips for by thy state
And presence I might guess thee chief of those
After the King who eat in Arthur halls
Him have I seen the rest his Table Round
Known as they are to me they are unknown
Then answered Sir Lancelot the chief of knights
Known am I and of Arthur hall and known
What I by mere mischance have brought my shield
But since I go to joust as one unknown
At Camelot for the diamond ask me not
Hereafter ye shall know me and the shield 
I pray you lend me one if such you have
Blank or at least with some device not mine
Then said the Lord of Astolat Here is Torre's
Hurt in his first tilt was my son Sir Torre
And so God wot his shield is blank enough
His ye can have Then added plain Sir Torre
Yea since I cannot use it ye may have it
Here laughed the father saying Fie Sir Churl
Is that answer for a noble knight
Allow him but Lavaine my younger here
He is so full of lustihood he will ride
Joust for it and win and bring it in an hour
And set it in this damsel golden hair
To make her thrice as wilful as before
Nay father nay good father shame me not
Before this noble knight said young Lavaine
For nothing Surely I but played on Torre
He seemed so sullen vext he could not go
A jest no more for knight the maiden dreamt
That some one put this diamond in her hand
And that it was too slippery to be held
And slipt and fell into some pool or stream
The castle-well belike and then I said
That if I went and if I fought and won it
But all was jest and joke among ourselves
Then must she keep it safelier All was jest
But father give me leave an if he will
To ride to Camelot with this noble knight
Win shall I not but do my best to win
Young as I am yet would I do my best
So will ye grace me answered Lancelot
Smiling a moment with your fellowship
O'er these waste downs whereon I lost myself
Then were I glad of you as guide and friend
And you shall win this diamond as I hear
It is a fair large diamond if ye may
And yield it to this maiden if ye will
A fair large diamond added plain Sir Torre
Such be for queens and not for simple maids
Then she who held her eyes upon the ground
Elaine and heard her name so tost about
Flushed slightly at the slight disparagement
Before the stranger knight who looking at her
Full courtly yet not falsely thus returned
If what is fair be but for what is fair
And only queens are to be counted so
Rash were my judgment then who deem this maid
Might wear as fair a jewel as is on earth
Not violating the bond of like to like
He spoke and ceased the lily maid Elaine
Won by the mellow voice before she looked
Lifted her eyes and read his lineaments
The great and guilty love he bare the Queen
In battle with the love he bare his lord
Had marred his face and marked it ere his time
Another sinning on such heights with one
The flower of all the west and all the world
Had been the sleeker for it but in him
His mood was often like a fiend and rose
And drove him into wastes and solitudes
For agony who was yet a living soul
Marred as he was he seemed the goodliest man
That ever among ladies ate in hall
And noblest when she lifted up her eyes
However marred of more than twice her years
Seamed with an ancient swordcut on the cheek
And bruised and bronzed she lifted up her eyes
And loved him with that love which was her doom
Then the great knight the darling of the court
Loved of the loveliest into that rude hall
Stept with all grace and not with half disdain
Hid under grace as in a smaller time
But kindly man moving among his kind
Whom they with meats and vintage of their best
And talk and minstrel melody entertained
And much they asked of court and Table Round
And ever well and readily answered he
But Lancelot when they glanced at Guinevere
Suddenly speaking of the wordless man
Heard from the Baron that ten years before
The heathen caught and reft him of his tongue
He learnt and warned me of their fierce design
Against my house and him they caught and maimed
But I my sons and little daughter fled
From bonds or death and dwelt among the woods
By the great river in a boatman hut
Dull days were those till our good Arthur broke
The Pagan yet once more on Badon hill
O there great lord doubtless Lavaine said rapt
By all the sweet and sudden passion of youth
Toward greatness in its elder you have fought
O tell us for we live apart you know
Of Arthur glorious wars And Lancelot spoke
And answered him at full as having been
With Arthur in the fight which all day long
Rang by the white mouth of the violent Glem
And in the four loud battles by the shore
Of Duglas that on Bassa then the war
That thundered in and out the gloomy skirts
Of Celidon the forest and again
By castle Gurnion where the glorious King
Had on his cuirass worn our Lady Head
Carved of one emerald centered in a sun
Of silver rays that lightened as he breathed
And at Caerleon had he helped his lord
When the strong neighings of the wild white Horse
Set every gilded parapet shuddering
And up in Agned-Cathregonion too
And down the waste sand-shores of Trath Treroit
Where many a heathen fell and on the mount
Of Badon I myself beheld the King
Charge at the head of all his Table Round
And all his legions crying Christ and him
And break them and I saw him after stand
High on a heap of slain from spur to plume
Red as the rising sun with heathen blood
And seeing me with a great voice he cried
'They are broken they are broken' for the King
However mild he seems at home nor cares
For triumph in our mimic wars the jousts 
For if his own knight cast him down he laughs
Saying his knights are better men than he 
Yet in this heathen war the fire of God
Fills him I never saw his like there lives
Low to her own heart said the lily maid
Save your own great self fair lord and when he fell
From talk of war to traits of pleasantry 
Being mirthful he but in a stately kind 
She still took note that when the living smile
Died from his lips across him came a cloud
Of melancholy severe from which again
Whenever in her hovering to and fro
The lily maid had striven to make him cheer
There brake a sudden-beaming tenderness
Of manners and of nature and she thought
That all was nature all perchance for her
And all night long his face before her lived
As when a painter poring on a face
Divinely through all hindrance finds the man
Behind it and so paints him that his face
The shape and colour of a mind and life
Lives for his children ever at its best
And fullest so the face before her lived
Dark-splendid speaking in the silence full
Of noble things and held her from her sleep
Till rathe she rose half-cheated in the thought
She needs must bid farewell to sweet Lavaine
First in fear step after step she stole
Down the long tower-stairs hesitating
Anon she heard Sir Lancelot cry in the court
This shield my friend where is it and Lavaine
Past inward as she came from out the tower
There to his proud horse Lancelot turned and smoothed
The glossy shoulder humming to himself
Half-envious of the flattering hand she drew
Nearer and stood He looked and more amazed
Than if seven men had set upon him saw
The maiden standing in the dewy light
He had not dreamed she was so beautiful
Then came on him a sort of sacred fear
For silent though he greeted her she stood
Rapt on his face as if it were a God's
Suddenly flashed on her a wild desire
That he should wear her favour at the tilt
She braved a riotous heart in asking for it
Fair lord whose name I know not noble it is
I well believe the noblest will you wear
My favour at this tourney Nay said he
Fair lady since I never yet have worn
Favour of any lady in the lists
Such is my wont as those who know me know
Yea so she answered then in wearing mine
Needs must be lesser likelihood noble lord
That those who know should know you And he turned
Her counsel up and down within his mind
And found it true and answered True my child
Well I will wear it fetch it out to me
What is it and she told him A red sleeve
Broidered with pearls and brought it then he bound
Her token on his helmet with a smile
Saying I never yet have done so much
For any maiden living and the blood
Sprang to her face and filled her with delight
But left her all the paler when Lavaine
Returning brought the yet-unblazoned shield
His brother which he gave to Lancelot
Who parted with his own to fair Elaine
Do me this grace my child to have my shield
In keeping till I come A grace to me
She answered twice today I am your squire
Whereat Lavaine said laughing Lily maid
For fear our people call you lily maid
In earnest let me bring your colour back
Once twice and thrice now get you hence to bed
So kissed her and Sir Lancelot his own hand
And thus they moved away she stayed a minute
Then made a sudden step to the gate and there 
Her bright hair blown about the serious face
Yet rosy-kindled with her brother kiss 
Paused by the gateway standing near the shield
In silence while she watched their arms far-off
Sparkle until they dipt below the downs
Then to her tower she climbed and took the shield
There kept it and so lived in fantasy
Meanwhile the new companions past away
Far o'er the long backs of the bushless downs
To where Sir Lancelot knew there lived a knight
Not far from Camelot now for forty years
A hermit who had prayed laboured and prayed
And ever labouring had scooped himself
In the white rock a chapel and a hall
On massive columns like a shorecliff cave
And cells and chambers all were fair and dry
The green light from the meadows underneath
Struck up and lived along the milky roofs
And in the meadows tremulous aspen-trees
And poplars made a noise of falling showers
And thither wending there that night they bode
But when the next day broke from underground
And shot red fire and shadows through the cave
They rose heard mass broke fast and rode away
Then Lancelot saying Hear but hold my name
Hidden you ride with Lancelot of the Lake
Abashed young Lavaine whose instant reverence
Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise
But left him leave to stammer Is it indeed
And after muttering The great Lancelot
At last he got his breath and answered One
One have I seen that other our liege lord
The dread Pendragon Britain King of kings
Of whom the people talk mysteriously
He will be there then were I stricken blind
That minute I might say that I had seen
So spake Lavaine and when they reached the lists
By Camelot in the meadow let his eyes
Run through the peopled gallery which half round
Lay like a rainbow fallen upon the grass
Until they found the clear-faced King who sat
Robed in red samite easily to be known
Since to his crown the golden dragon clung
And down his robe the dragon writhed in gold
And from the carven-work behind him crept
Two dragons gilded sloping down to make
Arms for his chair while all the rest of them
Through knots and loops and folds innumerable
Fled ever through the woodwork till they found
The new design wherein they lost themselves
Yet with all ease so tender was the work
And in the costly canopy o'er him set
Blazed the last diamond of the nameless king
Then Lancelot answered young Lavaine and said
Me you call great mine is the firmer seat
The truer lance but there is many a youth
Now crescent who will come to all I am
And overcome it and in me there dwells
No greatness save it be some far-off touch
Of greatness to know well I am not great
There is the man And Lavaine gaped upon him
As on a thing miraculous and anon
The trumpets blew and then did either side
They that assailed and they that held the lists
Set lance in rest strike spur suddenly move
Meet in the midst and there so furiously
Shock that a man far-off might well perceive
If any man that day were left afield
The hard earth shake and a low thunder of arms
And Lancelot bode a little till he saw
Which were the weaker then he hurled into it
Against the stronger little need to speak
Of Lancelot in his glory King duke earl
Count baron whom he smote he overthrew
But in the field were Lancelot kith and kin
Ranged with the Table Round that held the lists
Strong men and wrathful that a stranger knight
Should do and almost overdo the deeds
Of Lancelot and one said to the other Lo
What is he I do not mean the force alone 
The grace and versatility of the man
Is it not Lancelot When has Lancelot worn
Favour of any lady in the lists
Not such his wont as we that know him know
How then who then a fury seized them all
A fiery family passion for the name
Of Lancelot and a glory one with theirs
They couched their spears and pricked their steeds and thus
Their plumes driven backward by the wind they made
In moving all together down upon him
Bare as a wild wave in the wide North-sea
Green-glimmering toward the summit bears with all
Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies
Down on a bark and overbears the bark
And him that helms it so they overbore
Sir Lancelot and his charger and a spear
Down-glancing lamed the charger and a spear
Pricked sharply his own cuirass and the head
Pierced through his side and there snapt and remained
Then Sir Lavaine did well and worshipfully
He bore a knight of old repute to the earth
And brought his horse to Lancelot where he lay
He up the side sweating with agony got
But thought to do while he might yet endure
And being lustily holpen by the rest
His party though it seemed half-miracle
To those he fought with drave his kith and kin
And all the Table Round that held the lists
Back to the barrier then the trumpets blew
Proclaiming his the prize who wore the sleeve
Of scarlet and the pearls and all the knights
His party cried Advance and take thy prize
The diamond but he answered Diamond me
No diamonds for God love a little air
Prize me no prizes for my prize is death
Hence will I and I charge you follow me not
He spoke and vanished suddenly from the field
With young Lavaine into the poplar grove
There from his charger down he slid and sat
Gasping to Sir Lavaine Draw the lance-head
Ah my sweet lord Sir Lancelot said Lavaine
I dread me if I draw it you will die
But he I die already with it draw 
Draw and Lavaine drew and Sir Lancelot gave
A marvellous great shriek and ghastly groan
And half his blood burst forth and down he sank
For the pure pain and wholly swooned away
Then came the hermit out and bare him in
There stanched his wound and there in daily doubt
Whether to live or die for many a week
Hid from the wide world rumour by the grove
Of poplars with their noise of falling showers
And ever-tremulous aspen-trees he lay
But on that day when Lancelot fled the lists
His party knights of utmost North and West
Lords of waste marches kings of desolate isles
Came round their great Pendragon saying to him
Lo Sire our knight through whom we won the day
Hath gone sore wounded and hath left his prize
Untaken crying that his prize is death
Heaven hinder said the King that such an one
So great a knight as we have seen today 
He seemed to me another Lancelot 
Yea twenty times I thought him Lancelot 
He must not pass uncared for Wherefore rise
O Gawain and ride forth and find the knight
Wounded and wearied needs must he be near
I charge you that you get at once to horse
And knights and kings there breathes not one of you
Will deem this prize of ours is rashly given
His prowess was too wondrous We will do him
No customary honour since the knight
Came not to us of us to claim the prize
Ourselves will send it after Rise and take
This diamond and deliver it and return
And bring us where he is and how he fares
And cease not from your quest until ye find
So saying from the carven flower above
To which it made a restless heart he took
And gave the diamond then from where he sat
At Arthur right with smiling face arose
With smiling face and frowning heart a Prince
In the mid might and flourish of his May
Gawain surnamed The Courteous fair and strong
And after Lancelot Tristram and Geraint
And Gareth a good knight but therewithal
Sir Modred brother and the child of Lot
Nor often loyal to his word and now
Wroth that the King command to sally forth
In quest of whom he knew not made him leave
The banquet and concourse of knights and kings
So all in wrath he got to horse and went
While Arthur to the banquet dark in mood
Past thinking Is it Lancelot who hath come
Despite the wound he spake of all for gain
Of glory and hath added wound to wound
And ridden away to die So feared the King
And after two days' tarriance there returned
Then when he saw the Queen embracing asked
Love are you yet so sick Nay lord she said
And where is Lancelot Then the Queen amazed
Was he not with you won he not your prize
Nay but one like him Why that like was he
And when the King demanded how she knew
Said Lord no sooner had ye parted from us
Than Lancelot told me of a common talk
That men went down before his spear at a touch
But knowing he was Lancelot his great name
Conquered and therefore would he hide his name
From all men even the King and to this end
Had made a pretext of a hindering wound
That he might joust unknown of all and learn
If his old prowess were in aught decayed
And added 'Our true Arthur when he learns
Will well allow me pretext as for gain
Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it been
In lieu of idly dallying with the truth
To have trusted me as he hath trusted thee
Surely his King and most familiar friend
Might well have kept his secret True indeed
Albeit I know my knights fantastical
So fine a fear in our large Lancelot
Must needs have moved my laughter now remains
But little cause for laughter his own kin 
Ill news my Queen for all who love him this 
His kith and kin not knowing set upon him
So that he went sore wounded from the field
Yet good news too for goodly hopes are mine
That Lancelot is no more a lonely heart
He wore against his wont upon his helm
A sleeve of scarlet broidered with great pearls
Thy hopes are mine and saying that she choked
And sharply turned about to hide her face
Past to her chamber and there flung herself
Down on the great King couch and writhed upon it
And clenched her fingers till they bit the palm
And shrieked out Traitor to the unhearing wall
Then flashed into wild tears and rose again
And moved about her palace proud and pale
Gawain the while through all the region round
Rode with his diamond wearied of the quest
Touched at all points except the poplar grove
And came at last though late to Astolat
Whom glittering in enamelled arms the maid
Glanced at and cried What news from Camelot lord
What of the knight with the red sleeve He won
I knew it she said But parted from the jousts
Hurt in the side whereat she caught her breath
Through her own side she felt the sharp lance go
Thereon she smote her hand wellnigh she swooned
And while he gazed wonderingly at her came
The Lord of Astolat out to whom the Prince
Reported who he was and on what quest
Sent that he bore the prize and could not find
The victor but had ridden a random round
To seek him and had wearied of the search
To whom the Lord of Astolat Bide with us
And ride no more at random noble Prince
Here was the knight and here he left a shield
This will he send or come for furthermore
Our son is with him we shall hear anon
Needs must hear To this the courteous Prince
Accorded with his wonted courtesy
Courtesy with a touch of traitor in it
And stayed and cast his eyes on fair Elaine
Where could be found face daintier then her shape
From forehead down to foot perfect again
From foot to forehead exquisitely turned
Well if I bide lo this wild flower for me
And oft they met among the garden yews
And there he set himself to play upon her
With sallying wit free flashes from a height
Above her graces of the court and songs
Sighs and slow smiles and golden eloquence
And amorous adulation till the maid
Rebelled against it saying to him Prince
O loyal nephew of our noble King
Why ask you not to see the shield he left
Whence you might learn his name Why slight your King
And lose the quest he sent you on and prove
No surer than our falcon yesterday
Who lost the hern we slipt her at and went
To all the winds Nay by mine head said he
I lose it as we lose the lark in heaven
O damsel in the light of your blue eyes
But an ye will it let me see the shield
And when the shield was brought and Gawain saw
Sir Lancelot azure lions crowned with gold
Ramp in the field he smote his thigh and mocked
Right was the King our Lancelot that true man
And right was I she answered merrily I
Who dreamed my knight the greatest knight of all
And if I dreamed said Gawain that you love
This greatest knight your pardon lo ye know it
Speak therefore shall I waste myself in vain
Full simple was her answer What know I
My brethren have been all my fellowship
And I when often they have talked of love
Wished it had been my mother for they talked
Meseemed of what they knew not so myself 
I know not if I know what true love is
But if I know then if I love not him
I know there is none other I can love
Yea by God death said he ye love him well
But would not knew ye what all others know
And whom he loves So be it cried Elaine
And lifted her fair face and moved away
But he pursued her calling Stay a little
One golden minute grace he wore your sleeve
Would he break faith with one I may not name
Must our true man change like a leaf at last
Nay like enow why then far be it from me
To cross our mighty Lancelot in his loves
And damsel for I deem you know full well
Where your great knight is hidden let me leave
My quest with you the diamond also here
For if you love it will be sweet to give it
And if he love it will be sweet to have it
From your own hand and whether he love or not
A diamond is a diamond Fare you well
A thousand times a thousand times farewell
Yet if he love and his love hold we two
May meet at court hereafter there I think
So ye will learn the courtesies of the court
And slightly kissed the hand to which he gave
The diamond and all wearied of the quest
Leapt on his horse and carolling as he went
A true-love ballad lightly rode away
Thence to the court he past there told the King
What the King knew Sir Lancelot is the knight
And added Sire my liege so much I learnt
But failed to find him though I rode all round
The region but I lighted on the maid
Whose sleeve he wore she loves him and to her
Deeming our courtesy is the truest law
I gave the diamond she will render it
For by mine head she knows his hiding-place
The seldom-frowning King frowned and replied
Too courteous truly ye shall go no more
On quest of mine seeing that ye forget
Obedience is the courtesy due to kings
He spake and parted Wroth but all in awe
For twenty strokes of the blood without a word
Lingered that other staring after him
Then shook his hair strode off and buzzed abroad
About the maid of Astolat and her love
All ears were pricked at once all tongues were loosed
The maid of Astolat loves Sir Lancelot
Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Astolat
Some read the King face some the Queen and all
Had marvel what the maid might be but most
Predoomed her as unworthy One old dame
Came suddenly on the Queen with the sharp news
She that had heard the noise of it before
But sorrowing Lancelot should have stooped so low
Marred her friend aim with pale tranquillity
So ran the tale like fire about the court
Fire in dry stubble a nine-days' wonder flared
Till even the knights at banquet twice or thrice
Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Queen
And pledging Lancelot and the lily maid
Smiled at each other while the Queen who sat
With lips severely placid felt the knot
Climb in her throat and with her feet unseen
Crushed the wild passion out against the floor
Beneath the banquet where all the meats became
As wormwood and she hated all who pledged
But far away the maid in Astolat
Her guiltless rival she that ever kept
The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her heart
Crept to her father while he mused alone
Sat on his knee stroked his gray face and said
Father you call me wilful and the fault
Is yours who let me have my will and now
Sweet father will you let me lose my wits
Nay said he surely Wherefore let me hence
She answered and find out our dear Lavaine
Ye will not lose your wits for dear Lavaine
Bide answered he we needs must hear anon
Of him and of that other Ay she said
And of that other for I needs must hence
And find that other wheresoe'er he be
And with mine own hand give his diamond to him
Lest I be found as faithless in the quest
As yon proud Prince who left the quest to me
Sweet father I behold him in my dreams
Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself
Death-pale for lack of gentle maiden aid
The gentler-born the maiden the more bound
My father to be sweet and serviceable
To noble knights in sickness as ye know
When these have worn their tokens let me hence
I pray you Then her father nodding said
Ay ay the diamond wit ye well my child
Right fain were I to learn this knight were whole
Being our greatest yea and you must give it 
And sure I think this fruit is hung too high
For any mouth to gape for save a queen 
Nay I mean nothing so then get you gone
Being so very wilful you must go
Lightly her suit allowed she slipt away
And while she made her ready for her ride
Her father latest word hummed in her ear
Being so very wilful you must go
And changed itself and echoed in her heart
Being so very wilful you must die
But she was happy enough and shook it off
As we shake off the bee that buzzes at us
And in her heart she answered it and said
What matter so I help him back to life
Then far away with good Sir Torre for guide
Rode o'er the long backs of the bushless downs
To Camelot and before the city-gates
Came on her brother with a happy face
Making a roan horse caper and curvet
For pleasure all about a field of flowers
Whom when she saw Lavaine she cried Lavaine
How fares my lord Sir Lancelot He amazed
Torre and Elaine why here Sir Lancelot
How know ye my lord name is Lancelot
But when the maid had told him all her tale
Then turned Sir Torre and being in his moods
Left them and under the strange-statued gate
Where Arthur wars were rendered mystically
Past up the still rich city to his kin
His own far blood which dwelt at Camelot
And her Lavaine across the poplar grove
Led to the caves there first she saw the casque
Of Lancelot on the wall her scarlet sleeve
Though carved and cut and half the pearls away
Streamed from it still and in her heart she laughed
Because he had not loosed it from his helm
But meant once more perchance to tourney in it
And when they gained the cell wherein he slept
His battle-writhen arms and mighty hands
Lay naked on the wolfskin and a dream
Of dragging down his enemy made them move
Then she that saw him lying unsleek unshorn
Gaunt as it were the skeleton of himself
Uttered a little tender dolorous cry
The sound not wonted in a place so still
Woke the sick knight and while he rolled his eyes
Yet blank from sleep she started to him saying
Your prize the diamond sent you by the King
His eyes glistened she fancied Is it for me
And when the maid had told him all the tale
Of King and Prince the diamond sent the quest
Assigned to her not worthy of it she knelt
Full lowly by the corners of his bed
And laid the diamond in his open hand
Her face was near and as we kiss the child
That does the task assigned he kissed her face
At once she slipt like water to the floor
Alas he said your ride hath wearied you
Rest must you have No rest for me she said
Nay for near you fair lord I am at rest
What might she mean by that his large black eyes
Yet larger through his leanness dwelt upon her
Till all her heart sad secret blazed itself
In the heart colours on her simple face
And Lancelot looked and was perplext in mind
And being weak in body said no more
But did not love the colour woman love
Save one he not regarded and so turned
Sighing and feigned a sleep until he slept
Then rose Elaine and glided through the fields
And past beneath the weirdly-sculptured gates
Far up the dim rich city to her kin
There bode the night but woke with dawn and past
Down through the dim rich city to the fields
Thence to the cave so day by day she past
In either twilight ghost-like to and fro
Gliding and every day she tended him
And likewise many a night and Lancelot
Would though he called his wound a little hurt
Whereof he should be quickly whole at times
Brain-feverous in his heat and agony seem
Uncourteous even he but the meek maid
Sweetly forbore him ever being to him
Meeker than any child to a rough nurse
Milder than any mother to a sick child
And never woman yet since man first fall
Did kindlier unto man but her deep love
Upbore her till the hermit skilled in all
The simples and the science of that time
Told him that her fine care had saved his life
And the sick man forgot her simple blush
Would call her friend and sister sweet Elaine
Would listen for her coming and regret
Her parting step and held her tenderly
And loved her with all love except the love
Of man and woman when they love their best
Closest and sweetest and had died the death
In any knightly fashion for her sake
And peradventure had he seen her first
She might have made this and that other world
Another world for the sick man but now
The shackles of an old love straitened him
His honour rooted in dishonour stood
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true
Yet the great knight in his mid-sickness made
Full many a holy vow and pure resolve
These as but born of sickness could not live
For when the blood ran lustier in him again
Full often the bright image of one face
Making a treacherous quiet in his heart
Dispersed his resolution like a cloud
Then if the maiden while that ghostly grace
Beamed on his fancy spoke he answered not
Or short and coldly and she knew right well
What the rough sickness meant but what this meant
She knew not and the sorrow dimmed her sight
And drave her ere her time across the fields
Far into the rich city where alone
She murmured Vain in vain it cannot be
He will not love me how then must I die
Then as a little helpless innocent bird
That has but one plain passage of few notes
Will sing the simple passage o'er and o'er
For all an April morning till the ear
Wearies to hear it so the simple maid
Went half the night repeating Must I die
And now to right she turned and now to left
And found no ease in turning or in rest
And Him or death she muttered death or him
Again and like a burthen Him or death
But when Sir Lancelot deadly hurt was whole
To Astolat returning rode the three
There morn by morn arraying her sweet self
In that wherein she deemed she looked her best
She came before Sir Lancelot for she thought
If I be loved these are my festal robes
If not the victim flowers before he fall
And Lancelot ever prest upon the maid
That she should ask some goodly gift of him
For her own self or hers and do not shun
To speak the wish most near to your true heart
Such service have ye done me that I make
My will of yours and Prince and Lord am I
In mine own land and what I will I can
Then like a ghost she lifted up her face
But like a ghost without the power to speak
And Lancelot saw that she withheld her wish
And bode among them yet a little space
Till he should learn it and one morn it chanced
He found her in among the garden yews
And said Delay no longer speak your wish
Seeing I go today then out she brake
Going and we shall never see you more
And I must die for want of one bold word
Speak that I live to hear he said is yours
Then suddenly and passionately she spoke
I have gone mad I love you let me die
Ah sister answered Lancelot what is this
And innocently extending her white arms
Your love she said your love to be your wife
And Lancelot answered Had I chosen to wed
I had been wedded earlier sweet Elaine
But now there never will be wife of mine
No no she cried I care not to be wife
But to be with you still to see your face
To serve you and to follow you through the world
And Lancelot answered Nay the world the world
All ear and eye with such a stupid heart
To interpret ear and eye and such a tongue
To blare its own interpretation nay
Full ill then should I quit your brother love
And your good father kindness And she said
Not to be with you not to see your face 
Alas for me then my good days are done
Nay noble maid he answered ten times nay
This is not love but love first flash in youth
Most common yea I know it of mine own self
And you yourself will smile at your own self
Hereafter when you yield your flower of life
To one more fitly yours not thrice your age
And then will I for true you are and sweet
Beyond mine old belief in womanhood
More specially should your good knight be poor
Endow you with broad land and territory
Even to the half my realm beyond the seas
So that would make you happy furthermore
Even to the death as though ye were my blood
In all your quarrels will I be your knight
This I will do dear damsel for your sake
She neither blushed nor shook but deathly-pale
Stood grasping what was nearest then replied
Of all this will I nothing and so fell
And thus they bore her swooning to her tower
Then spake to whom through those black walls of yew
Their talk had pierced her father Ay a flash
I fear me that will strike my blossom dead
Too courteous are ye fair Lord Lancelot
I pray you use some rough discourtesy
That were against me what I can I will
And there that day remained and toward even
Sent for his shield full meekly rose the maid
Stript off the case and gave the naked shield
Then when she heard his horse upon the stones
Unclasping flung the casement back and looked
Down on his helm from which her sleeve had gone
And Lancelot knew the little clinking sound
And she by tact of love was well aware
That Lancelot knew that she was looking at him
And yet he glanced not up nor waved his hand
Nor bad farewell but sadly rode away
This was the one discourtesy that he used
So in her tower alone the maiden sat
His very shield was gone only the case
Her own poor work her empty labour left
But still she heard him still his picture formed
And grew between her and the pictured wall
Then came her father saying in low tones
Have comfort whom she greeted quietly
Then came her brethren saying Peace to thee
Sweet sister whom she answered with all calm
But when they left her to herself again
Death like a friend voice from a distant field
Approaching through the darkness called the owls
Wailing had power upon her and she mixt
Her fancies with the sallow-rifted glooms
Of evening and the moanings of the wind
And in those days she made a little song
And called her song The Song of Love and Death
And sang it sweetly could she make and sing
Sweet is true love though given in vain in vain
And sweet is death who puts an end to pain
I know not which is sweeter no not I
Love art thou sweet then bitter death must be
Love thou art bitter sweet is death to me
O Love if death be sweeter let me die
Sweet love that seems not made to fade away
Sweet death that seems to make us loveless clay
I know not which is sweeter no not I
I fain would follow love if that could be
I needs must follow death who calls for me
Call and I follow I follow let me die
High with the last line scaled her voice and this
All in a fiery dawning wild with wind
That shook her tower the brothers heard and thought
With shuddering Hark the Phantom of the house
That ever shrieks before a death and called
The father and all three in hurry and fear
Ran to her and lo the blood-red light of dawn
Flared on her face she shrilling Let me die
As when we dwell upon a word we know
Repeating till the word we know so well
Becomes a wonder and we know not why
So dwelt the father on her face and thought
Is this Elaine till back the maiden fell
Then gave a languid hand to each and lay
Speaking a still good-morrow with her eyes
At last she said Sweet brothers yesternight
I seemed a curious little maid again
As happy as when we dwelt among the woods
And when ye used to take me with the flood
Up the great river in the boatman boat
Only ye would not pass beyond the cape
That has the poplar on it there ye fixt
Your limit oft returning with the tide
And yet I cried because ye would not pass
Beyond it and far up the shining flood
Until we found the palace of the King
And yet ye would not but this night I dreamed
That I was all alone upon the flood
And then I said 'Now shall I have my will
And there I woke but still the wish remained
So let me hence that I may pass at last
Beyond the poplar and far up the flood
Until I find the palace of the King
There will I enter in among them all
And no man there will dare to mock at me
But there the fine Gawain will wonder at me
And there the great Sir Lancelot muse at me
Gawain who bad a thousand farewells to me
Lancelot who coldly went nor bad me one
And there the King will know me and my love
And there the Queen herself will pity me
And all the gentle court will welcome me
And after my long voyage I shall rest
Peace said her father O my child ye seem
Light-headed for what force is yours to go
So far being sick and wherefore would ye look
On this proud fellow again who scorns us all
Then the rough Torre began to heave and move
And bluster into stormy sobs and say
I never loved him an I meet with him
I care not howsoever great he be
Then will I strike at him and strike him down
Give me good fortune I will strike him dead
For this discomfort he hath done the house
To whom the gentle sister made reply
Fret not yourself dear brother nor be wroth
Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot fault
Not to love me than it is mine to love
Him of all men who seems to me the highest
Highest the father answered echoing highest
He meant to break the passion in her nay
Daughter I know not what you call the highest
But this I know for all the people know it
He loves the Queen and in an open shame
And she returns his love in open shame
If this be high what is it to be low
Then spake the lily maid of Astolat
Sweet father all too faint and sick am I
For anger these are slanders never yet
Was noble man but made ignoble talk
He makes no friend who never made a foe
But now it is my glory to have loved
One peerless without stain so let me pass
My father howsoe'er I seem to you
Not all unhappy having loved God best
And greatest though my love had no return
Yet seeing you desire your child to live
Thanks but you work against your own desire
For if I could believe the things you say
I should but die the sooner wherefore cease
Sweet father and bid call the ghostly man
Hither and let me shrive me clean and die
So when the ghostly man had come and gone
She with a face bright as for sin forgiven
Besought Lavaine to write as she devised
A letter word for word and when he asked
Is it for Lancelot is it for my dear lord
Then will I bear it gladly she replied
For Lancelot and the Queen and all the world
But I myself must bear it Then he wrote
The letter she devised which being writ
And folded O sweet father tender and true
Deny me not she said ye never yet
Denied my fancies this however strange
My latest lay the letter in my hand
A little ere I die and close the hand
Upon it I shall guard it even in death
And when the heat is gone from out my heart
Then take the little bed on which I died
For Lancelot love and deck it like the Queen's
For richness and me also like the Queen
In all I have of rich and lay me on it
And let there be prepared a chariot-bier
To take me to the river and a barge
Be ready on the river clothed in black
I go in state to court to meet the Queen
There surely I shall speak for mine own self
And none of you can speak for me so well
And therefore let our dumb old man alone
Go with me he can steer and row and he
Will guide me to that palace to the doors
She ceased her father promised whereupon
She grew so cheerful that they deemed her death
Was rather in the fantasy than the blood
But ten slow mornings past and on the eleventh
Her father laid the letter in her hand
And closed the hand upon it and she died
So that day there was dole in Astolat
But when the next sun brake from underground
Then those two brethren slowly with bent brows
Accompanying the sad chariot-bier
Past like a shadow through the field that shone
Full-summer to that stream whereon the barge
Palled all its length in blackest samite lay
There sat the lifelong creature of the house
Loyal the dumb old servitor on deck
Winking his eyes and twisted all his face
So those two brethren from the chariot took
And on the black decks laid her in her bed
Set in her hand a lily o'er her hung
The silken case with braided blazonings
And kissed her quiet brows and saying to her
Sister farewell for ever and again
Farewell sweet sister parted all in tears
Then rose the dumb old servitor and the dead
Oared by the dumb went upward with the flood 
In her right hand the lily in her left
The letter all her bright hair streaming down 
And all the coverlid was cloth of gold
Drawn to her waist and she herself in white
All but her face and that clear-featured face
Was lovely for she did not seem as dead
But fast asleep and lay as though she smiled
That day Sir Lancelot at the palace craved
Audience of Guinevere to give at last
The price of half a realm his costly gift
Hard-won and hardly won with bruise and blow
With deaths of others and almost his own
The nine-years-fought-for diamonds for he saw
One of her house and sent him to the Queen
Bearing his wish whereto the Queen agreed
With such and so unmoved a majesty
She might have seemed her statue but that he
Low-drooping till he wellnigh kissed her feet
For loyal awe saw with a sidelong eye
The shadow of some piece of pointed lace
In the Queen shadow vibrate on the walls
And parted laughing in his courtly heart
All in an oriel on the summer side
Vine-clad of Arthur palace toward the stream
They met and Lancelot kneeling uttered Queen
Lady my liege in whom I have my joy
Take what I had not won except for you
These jewels and make me happy making them
An armlet for the roundest arm on earth
Or necklace for a neck to which the swan's
Is tawnier than her cygnet these are words
Your beauty is your beauty and I sin
In speaking yet O grant my worship of it
Words as we grant grief tears Such sin in words
Perchance we both can pardon but my Queen
I hear of rumours flying through your court
Our bond as not the bond of man and wife
Should have in it an absoluter trust
To make up that defect let rumours be
When did not rumours fly these as I trust
That you trust me in your own nobleness
I may not well believe that you believe
While thus he spoke half turned away the Queen
Brake from the vast oriel-embowering vine
Leaf after leaf and tore and cast them off
Till all the place whereon she stood was green
Then when he ceased in one cold passive hand
Received at once and laid aside the gems
There on a table near her and replied
It may be I am quicker of belief
Than you believe me Lancelot of the Lake
Our bond is not the bond of man and wife
This good is in it whatsoe'er of ill
It can be broken easier I for you
This many a year have done despite and wrong
To one whom ever in my heart of hearts
I did acknowledge nobler What are these
Diamonds for me they had been thrice their worth
Being your gift had you not lost your own
To loyal hearts the value of all gifts
Must vary as the giver Not for me
For her for your new fancy Only this
Grant me I pray you have your joys apart
I doubt not that however changed you keep
So much of what is graceful and myself
Would shun to break those bounds of courtesy
In which as Arthur Queen I move and rule
So cannot speak my mind An end to this
A strange one yet I take it with Amen
So pray you add my diamonds to her pearls
Deck her with these tell her she shines me down
An armlet for an arm to which the Queen's
Is haggard or a necklace for a neck
O as much fairer as a faith once fair
Was richer than these diamonds hers not mine 
Nay by the mother of our Lord himself
Or hers or mine mine now to work my will 
And through the casement standing wide for heat
Flung them and down they flashed and smote the stream
Then from the smitten surface flashed as it were
Diamonds to meet them and they past away
Then while Sir Lancelot leant in half disdain
At love life all things on the window ledge
Close underneath his eyes and right across
Where these had fallen slowly past the barge
Whereon the lily maid of Astolat
Lay smiling like a star in blackest night
But the wild Queen who saw not burst away
To weep and wail in secret and the barge
On to the palace-doorway sliding paused
There two stood armed and kept the door to whom
All up the marble stair tier over tier
Were added mouths that gaped and eyes that asked
What is it but that oarsman haggard face
As hard and still as is the face that men
Shape to their fancy eye from broken rocks
On some cliff-side appalled them and they said
He is enchanted cannot speak and she
Look how she sleeps the Fairy Queen so fair
Yea but how pale what are they flesh and blood
Or come to take the King to Fairyland
For some do hold our Arthur cannot die
But that he passes into Fairyland
While thus they babbled of the King the King
Came girt with knights then turned the tongueless man
From the half-face to the full eye and rose
And pointed to the damsel and the doors
So Arthur bad the meek Sir Percivale
And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the maid
And reverently they bore her into hall
Then came the fine Gawain and wondered at her
And Lancelot later came and mused at her
And last the Queen herself and pitied her
But Arthur spied the letter in her hand
Stoopt took brake seal and read it this was all
Most noble lord Sir Lancelot of the Lake
I sometime called the maid of Astolat
Come for you left me taking no farewell
Hither to take my last farewell of you
I loved you and my love had no return
And therefore my true love has been my death
And therefore to our Lady Guinevere
And to all other ladies I make moan
Pray for my soul and yield me burial
Pray for my soul thou too Sir Lancelot
And ever in the reading lords and dames
Wept looking often from his face who read
To hers which lay so silent and at times
So touched were they half-thinking that her lips
Who had devised the letter moved again
Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to them all
My lord liege Arthur and all ye that hear
Know that for this most gentle maiden death
Right heavy am I for good she was and true
But loved me with a love beyond all love
In women whomsoever I have known
Yet to be loved makes not to love again
Not at my years however it hold in youth
I swear by truth and knighthood that I gave
No cause not willingly for such a love
To this I call my friends in testimony
Her brethren and her father who himself
Besought me to be plain and blunt and use
To break her passion some discourtesy
Against my nature what I could I did
I left her and I bad her no farewell
Though had I dreamt the damsel would have died
I might have put my wits to some rough use
Sea was her wrath yet working after storm
Ye might at least have done her so much grace
Fair lord as would have helped her from her death
He raised his head their eyes met and hers fell
Save that I wedded her which could not be
Then might she follow me through the world she asked
It could not be I told her that her love
Was but the flash of youth would darken down
To rise hereafter in a stiller flame
Toward one more worthy of her then would I
More specially were he she wedded poor
Estate them with large land and territory
In mine own realm beyond the narrow seas
To keep them in all joyance more than this
I could not this she would not and she died
He pausing Arthur answered O my knight
It will be to thy worship as my knight
And mine as head of all our Table Round
To see that she be buried worshipfully
So toward that shrine which then in all the realm
Was richest Arthur leading slowly went
The marshalled Order of their Table Round
And Lancelot sad beyond his wont to see
The maiden buried not as one unknown
Nor meanly but with gorgeous obsequies
And mass and rolling music like a queen
And when the knights had laid her comely head
Low in the dust of half-forgotten kings
Then Arthur spake among them Let her tomb
Be costly and her image thereupon
And let the shield of Lancelot at her feet
Be carven and her lily in her hand
And let the story of her dolorous voyage
For all true hearts be blazoned on her tomb
In letters gold and azure which was wrought
Thereafter but when now the lords and dames
And people from the high door streaming brake
Disorderly as homeward each the Queen
Who marked Sir Lancelot where he moved apart
Drew near and sighed in passing Lancelot
Forgive me mine was jealousy in love
He answered with his eyes upon the ground
That is love curse pass on my Queen forgiven
But Arthur who beheld his cloudy brows
Approached him and with full affection said
Lancelot my Lancelot thou in whom I have
Most joy and most affiance for I know
What thou hast been in battle by my side
And many a time have watched thee at the tilt
Strike down the lusty and long practised knight
And let the younger and unskilled go by
To win his honour and to make his name
And loved thy courtesies and thee a man
Made to be loved but now I would to God
Seeing the homeless trouble in thine eyes
Thou couldst have loved this maiden shaped it seems
By God for thee alone and from her face
If one may judge the living by the dead
Delicately pure and marvellously fair
Who might have brought thee now a lonely man
Wifeless and heirless noble issue sons
Born to the glory of thine name and fame
My knight the great Sir Lancelot of the Lake
Then answered Lancelot Fair she was my King
Pure as you ever wish your knights to be
To doubt her fairness were to want an eye
To doubt her pureness were to want a heart 
Yea to be loved if what is worthy love
Could bind him but free love will not be bound
Free love so bound were freest said the King
Let love be free free love is for the best
And after heaven on our dull side of death
What should be best if not so pure a love
Clothed in so pure a loveliness yet thee
She failed to bind though being as I think
Unbound as yet and gentle as I know
And Lancelot answered nothing but he went
And at the inrunning of a little brook
Sat by the river in a cove and watched
The high reed wave and lifted up his eyes
And saw the barge that brought her moving down
Far-off a blot upon the stream and said
Low in himself Ah simple heart and sweet
Ye loved me damsel surely with a love
Far tenderer than my Queen Pray for thy soul
Ay that will I Farewell too now at last 
Farewell fair lily 'Jealousy in love
Not rather dead love harsh heir jealous pride
Queen if I grant the jealousy as of love
May not your crescent fear for name and fame
Speak as it waxes of a love that wanes
Why did the King dwell on my name to me
Mine own name shames me seeming a reproach
Lancelot whom the Lady of the Lake
Caught from his mother arms the wondrous one
Who passes through the vision of the night 
She chanted snatches of mysterious hymns
Heard on the winding waters eve and morn
She kissed me saying 'Thou art fair my child
As a king son' and often in her arms
She bare me pacing on the dusky mere
Would she had drowned me in it where'er it be
For what am I what profits me my name
Of greatest knight I fought for it and have it
Pleasure to have it none to lose it pain
Now grown a part of me but what use in it
To make men worse by making my sin known
Or sin seem less the sinner seeming great
Alas for Arthur greatest knight a man
Not after Arthur heart I needs must break
These bonds that so defame me not without
She wills it would I if she willed it nay
Who knows but if I would not then may God
I pray him send a sudden Angel down
To seize me by the hair and bear me far
And fling me deep in that forgotten mere
Among the tumbled fragments of the hills
So groaned Sir Lancelot in remorseful pain
Not knowing he should die a holy man
From noiseful arms and acts of prowess done
In tournament or tilt Sir Percivale
Whom Arthur and his knighthood called The Pure
Had passed into the silent life of prayer
Praise fast and alms and leaving for the cowl
The helmet in an abbey far away
From Camelot there and not long after died
And one a fellow-monk among the rest
Ambrosius loved him much beyond the rest
And honoured him and wrought into his heart
A way by love that wakened love within
To answer that which came and as they sat
Beneath a world-old yew-tree darkening half
The cloisters on a gustful April morn
That puffed the swaying branches into smoke
Above them ere the summer when he died
The monk Ambrosius questioned Percivale
O brother I have seen this yew-tree smoke
Spring after spring for half a hundred years
For never have I known the world without
Nor ever strayed beyond the pale but thee
When first thou camest such a courtesy
Spake through the limbs and in the voice I knew
For one of those who eat in Arthur hall
For good ye are and bad and like to coins
Some true some light but every one of you
Stamped with the image of the King and now
Tell me what drove thee from the Table Round
My brother was it earthly passion crost
Nay said the knight for no such passion mine
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories rivalries
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts while women watch
Who wins who falls and waste the spiritual strength
Within us better offered up to Heaven
To whom the monk The Holy Grail I trust
We are green in Heaven eyes but here too much
We moulder as to things without I mean 
Yet one of your own knights a guest of ours
Told us of this in our refectory
But spake with such a sadness and so low
We heard not half of what he said What is it
The phantom of a cup that comes and goes
Nay monk what phantom answered Percivale
The cup the cup itself from which our Lord
Drank at the last sad supper with his own
This from the blessed land of Aromat 
After the day of darkness when the dead
Went wandering o'er Moriah the good saint
Arimathaean Joseph journeying brought
To Glastonbury where the winter thorn
Blossoms at Christmas mindful of our Lord
And there awhile it bode and if a man
Could touch or see it he was healed at once
By faith of all his ills But then the times
Grew to such evil that the holy cup
Was caught away to Heaven and disappeared
To whom the monk From our old books I know
That Joseph came of old to Glastonbury
And there the heathen Prince Arviragus
Gave him an isle of marsh whereon to build
And there he built with wattles from the marsh
A little lonely church in days of yore
For so they say these books of ours but seem
Mute of this miracle far as I have read
But who first saw the holy thing today
A woman answered Percivale a nun
And one no further off in blood from me
Than sister and if ever holy maid
With knees of adoration wore the stone
A holy maid though never maiden glowed
But that was in her earlier maidenhood
With such a fervent flame of human love
Which being rudely blunted glanced and shot
Only to holy things to prayer and praise
She gave herself to fast and alms And yet
Nun as she was the scandal of the Court
Sin against Arthur and the Table Round
And the strange sound of an adulterous race
Across the iron grating of her cell
Beat and she prayed and fasted all the more
And he to whom she told her sins or what
Her all but utter whiteness held for sin
A man wellnigh a hundred winters old
Spake often with her of the Holy Grail
A legend handed down through five or six
And each of these a hundred winters old
From our Lord time And when King Arthur made
His Table Round and all men hearts became
Clean for a season surely he had thought
That now the Holy Grail would come again
But sin broke out Ah Christ that it would come
And heal the world of all their wickedness
'O Father' asked the maiden 'might it come
To me by prayer and fasting' 'Nay' said he
'I know not for thy heart is pure as snow
And so she prayed and fasted till the sun
Shone and the wind blew through her and I thought
She might have risen and floated when I saw her
For on a day she sent to speak with me
And when she came to speak behold her eyes
Beyond my knowing of them beautiful
Beyond all knowing of them wonderful
Beautiful in the light of holiness
And 'O my brother Percivale' she said
'Sweet brother I have seen the Holy Grail
For waked at dead of night I heard a sound
As of a silver horn from o'er the hills
Blown and I thought It is not Arthur use
To hunt by moonlight and the slender sound
As from a distance beyond distance grew
Coming upon me O never harp nor horn
Nor aught we blow with breath or touch with hand
Was like that music as it came and then
Streamed through my cell a cold and silver beam
And down the long beam stole the Holy Grail
Rose-red with beatings in it as if alive
Till all the white walls of my cell were dyed
With rosy colours leaping on the wall
And then the music faded and the Grail
Past and the beam decayed and from the walls
The rosy quiverings died into the night
So now the Holy Thing is here again
Among us brother fast thou too and pray
And tell thy brother knights to fast and pray
That so perchance the vision may be seen
By thee and those and all the world be healed
Then leaving the pale nun I spake of this
To all men and myself fasted and prayed
Always and many among us many a week
Fasted and prayed even to the uttermost
Expectant of the wonder that would be
And one there was among us ever moved
Among us in white armour Galahad
'God make thee good as thou art beautiful
Said Arthur when he dubbed him knight and none
In so young youth was ever made a knight
Till Galahad and this Galahad when he heard
My sister vision filled me with amaze
His eyes became so like her own they seemed
Hers and himself her brother more than I
Sister or brother none had he but some
Called him a son of Lancelot and some said
Begotten by enchantment chatterers they
Like birds of passage piping up and down
That gape for flies we know not whence they come
For when was Lancelot wanderingly lewd
But she the wan sweet maiden shore away
Clean from her forehead all that wealth of hair
Which made a silken mat-work for her feet
And out of this she plaited broad and long
A strong sword-belt and wove with silver thread
And crimson in the belt a strange device
A crimson grail within a silver beam
And saw the bright boy-knight and bound it on him
Saying 'My knight my love my knight of heaven
O thou my love whose love is one with mine
I maiden round thee maiden bind my belt
Go forth for thou shalt see what I have seen
And break through all till one will crown thee king
Far in the spiritual city' and as she spake
She sent the deathless passion in her eyes
Through him and made him hers and laid her mind
On him and he believed in her belief
Then came a year of miracle O brother
In our great hall there stood a vacant chair
Fashioned by Merlin ere he past away
And carven with strange figures and in and out
The figures like a serpent ran a scroll
Of letters in a tongue no man could read
And Merlin called it 'The Siege perilous
Perilous for good and ill 'for there' he said
'No man could sit but he should lose himself
And once by misadvertence Merlin sat
In his own chair and so was lost but he
Galahad when he heard of Merlin doom
Cried 'If I lose myself I save myself
Then on a summer night it came to pass
While the great banquet lay along the hall
That Galahad would sit down in Merlin chair
And all at once as there we sat we heard
A cracking and a riving of the roofs
And rending and a blast and overhead
Thunder and in the thunder was a cry
And in the blast there smote along the hall
A beam of light seven times more clear than day
And down the long beam stole the Holy Grail
All over covered with a luminous cloud
And none might see who bare it and it past
But every knight beheld his fellow face
As in a glory and all the knights arose
And staring each at other like dumb men
Stood till I found a voice and sware a vow
I sware a vow before them all that I
Because I had not seen the Grail would ride
A twelvemonth and a day in quest of it
Until I found and saw it as the nun
My sister saw it and Galahad sware the vow
And good Sir Bors our Lancelot cousin sware
And Lancelot sware and many among the knights
And Gawain sware and louder than the rest
Then spake the monk Ambrosius asking him
What said the King Did Arthur take the vow
Nay for my lord said Percivale the King
Was not in hall for early that same day
Scaped through a cavern from a bandit hold
An outraged maiden sprang into the hall
Crying on help for all her shining hair
Was smeared with earth and either milky arm
Red-rent with hooks of bramble and all she wore
Torn as a sail that leaves the rope is torn
In tempest so the King arose and went
To smoke the scandalous hive of those wild bees
That made such honey in his realm Howbeit
Some little of this marvel he too saw
Returning o'er the plain that then began
To darken under Camelot whence the King
Looked up calling aloud 'Lo there the roofs
Of our great hall are rolled in thunder-smoke
Pray Heaven they be not smitten by the bolt
For dear to Arthur was that hall of ours
As having there so oft with all his knights
Feasted and as the stateliest under heaven
O brother had you known our mighty hall
Which Merlin built for Arthur long ago
For all the sacred mount of Camelot
And all the dim rich city roof by roof
Tower after tower spire beyond spire
By grove and garden-lawn and rushing brook
Climbs to the mighty hall that Merlin built
And four great zones of sculpture set betwixt
With many a mystic symbol gird the hall
And in the lowest beasts are slaying men
And in the second men are slaying beasts
And on the third are warriors perfect men
And on the fourth are men with growing wings
And over all one statue in the mould
Of Arthur made by Merlin with a crown
And peaked wings pointed to the Northern Star
And eastward fronts the statue and the crown
And both the wings are made of gold and flame
At sunrise till the people in far fields
Wasted so often by the heathen hordes
Behold it crying 'We have still a King
And brother had you known our hall within
Broader and higher than any in all the lands
Where twelve great windows blazon Arthur wars
And all the light that falls upon the board
Streams through the twelve great battles of our King
Nay one there is and at the eastern end
Wealthy with wandering lines of mount and mere
Where Arthur finds the brand Excalibur
And also one to the west and counter to it
And blank and who shall blazon it when and how 
O there perchance when all our wars are done
The brand Excalibur will be cast away
So to this hall full quickly rode the King
In horror lest the work by Merlin wrought
Dreamlike should on the sudden vanish wrapt
In unremorseful folds of rolling fire
And in he rode and up I glanced and saw
The golden dragon sparkling over all
And many of those who burnt the hold their arms
Hacked and their foreheads grimed with smoke and seared
Followed and in among bright faces ours
Full of the vision prest and then the King
Spake to me being nearest 'Percivale
Because the hall was all in tumult some
Vowing and some protesting 'what is this
O brother when I told him what had chanced
My sister vision and the rest his face
Darkened as I have seen it more than once
When some brave deed seemed to be done in vain
Darken and 'Woe is me my knights' he cried
'Had I been here ye had not sworn the vow
Bold was mine answer 'Had thyself been here
My King thou wouldst have sworn' 'Yea yea' said he
'Art thou so bold and hast not seen the Grail
'Nay lord I heard the sound I saw the light
But since I did not see the Holy Thing
I sware a vow to follow it till I saw
Then when he asked us knight by knight if any
Had seen it all their answers were as one
'Nay lord and therefore have we sworn our vows
'Lo now' said Arthur 'have ye seen a cloud
What go ye into the wilderness to see
Then Galahad on the sudden and in a voice
Shrilling along the hall to Arthur called
'But I Sir Arthur saw the Holy Grail
I saw the Holy Grail and heard a cry 
O Galahad and O Galahad follow me
'Ah Galahad Galahad' said the King 'for such
As thou art is the vision not for these
Thy holy nun and thou have seen a sign 
Holier is none my Percivale than she 
A sign to maim this Order which I made
But ye that follow but the leader bell
Brother the King was hard upon his knights
'Taliessin is our fullest throat of song
And one hath sung and all the dumb will sing
Lancelot is Lancelot and hath overborne
Five knights at once and every younger knight
Unproven holds himself as Lancelot
Till overborne by one he learns and ye
What are ye Galahads no nor Percivales
For thus it pleased the King to range me close
After Sir Galahad 'nay' said he 'but men
With strength and will to right the wronged of power
To lay the sudden heads of violence flat
Knights that in twelve great battles splashed and dyed
The strong White Horse in his own heathen blood 
But one hath seen and all the blind will see
Go since your vows are sacred being made
Yet for ye know the cries of all my realm
Pass through this hall how often O my knights
Your places being vacant at my side
This chance of noble deeds will come and go
Unchallenged while ye follow wandering fires
Lost in the quagmire Many of you yea most
Return no more ye think I show myself
Too dark a prophet come now let us meet
The morrow morn once more in one full field
Of gracious pastime that once more the King
Before ye leave him for this Quest may count
The yet-unbroken strength of all his knights
Rejoicing in that Order which he made
So when the sun broke next from under ground
All the great table of our Arthur closed
And clashed in such a tourney and so full
So many lances broken never yet
Had Camelot seen the like since Arthur came
And I myself and Galahad for a strength
Was in us from this vision overthrew
So many knights that all the people cried
And almost burst the barriers in their heat
Shouting 'Sir Galahad and Sir Percivale
But when the next day brake from under ground 
O brother had you known our Camelot
Built by old kings age after age so old
The King himself had fears that it would fall
So strange and rich and dim for where the roofs
Tottered toward each other in the sky
Met foreheads all along the street of those
Who watched us pass and lower and where the long
Rich galleries lady-laden weighed the necks
Of dragons clinging to the crazy walls
Thicker than drops from thunder showers of flowers
Fell as we past and men and boys astride
On wyvern lion dragon griffin swan
At all the corners named us each by name
Calling 'God speed' but in the ways below
The knights and ladies wept and rich and poor
Wept and the King himself could hardly speak
For grief and all in middle street the Queen
Who rode by Lancelot wailed and shrieked aloud
'This madness has come on us for our sins
So to the Gate of the three Queens we came
Where Arthur wars are rendered mystically
And thence departed every one his way
And I was lifted up in heart and thought
Of all my late-shown prowess in the lists
How my strong lance had beaten down the knights
So many and famous names and never yet
Had heaven appeared so blue nor earth so green
For all my blood danced in me and I knew
That I should light upon the Holy Grail
Thereafter the dark warning of our King
That most of us would follow wandering fires
Came like a driving gloom across my mind
Then every evil word I had spoken once
And every evil thought I had thought of old
And every evil deed I ever did
Awoke and cried 'This Quest is not for thee
And lifting up mine eyes I found myself
Alone and in a land of sand and thorns
And I was thirsty even unto death
And I too cried 'This Quest is not for thee
And on I rode and when I thought my thirst
Would slay me saw deep lawns and then a brook
With one sharp rapid where the crisping white
Played ever back upon the sloping wave
And took both ear and eye and o'er the brook
Were apple-trees and apples by the brook
Fallen and on the lawns 'I will rest here
I said 'I am not worthy of the Quest
But even while I drank the brook and ate
The goodly apples all these things at once
Fell into dust and I was left alone
And thirsting in a land of sand and thorns
And then behold a woman at a door
Spinning and fair the house whereby she sat
And kind the woman eyes and innocent
And all her bearing gracious and she rose
Opening her arms to meet me as who should say
'Rest here' but when I touched her lo she too
Fell into dust and nothing and the house
Became no better than a broken shed
And in it a dead babe and also this
Fell into dust and I was left alone
And on I rode and greater was my thirst
Then flashed a yellow gleam across the world
And where it smote the plowshare in the field
The plowman left his plowing and fell down
Before it where it glittered on her pail
The milkmaid left her milking and fell down
Before it and I knew not why but thought
'The sun is rising' though the sun had risen
Then was I ware of one that on me moved
In golden armour with a crown of gold
About a casque all jewels and his horse
In golden armour jewelled everywhere
And on the splendour came flashing me blind
And seemed to me the Lord of all the world
Being so huge But when I thought he meant
To crush me moving on me lo he too
Opened his arms to embrace me as he came
And up I went and touched him and he too
Fell into dust and I was left alone
And wearying in a land of sand and thorns
And I rode on and found a mighty hill
And on the top a city walled the spires
Pricked with incredible pinnacles into heaven
And by the gateway stirred a crowd and these
Cried to me climbing 'Welcome Percivale
Thou mightiest and thou purest among men
And glad was I and clomb but found at top
No man nor any voice And thence I past
Far through a ruinous city and I saw
That man had once dwelt there but there I found
Only one man of an exceeding age
'Where is that goodly company' said I
'That so cried out upon me' and he had
Scarce any voice to answer and yet gasped
'Whence and what art thou' and even as he spoke
Fell into dust and disappeared and I
Was left alone once more and cried in grief
'Lo if I find the Holy Grail itself
And touch it it will crumble into dust
And thence I dropt into a lowly vale
Low as the hill was high and where the vale
Was lowest found a chapel and thereby
A holy hermit in a hermitage
To whom I told my phantoms and he said
'O son thou hast not true humility
The highest virtue mother of them all
For when the Lord of all things made Himself
Naked of glory for His mortal change
Take thou my robe she said for all is thine
And all her form shone forth with sudden light
So that the angels were amazed and she
Followed Him down and like a flying star
Led on the gray-haired wisdom of the east
But her thou hast not known for what is this
Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins
Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself
As Galahad' When the hermit made an end
In silver armour suddenly Galahad shone
Before us and against the chapel door
Laid lance and entered and we knelt in prayer
And there the hermit slaked my burning thirst
And at the sacring of the mass I saw
The holy elements alone but he
'Saw ye no more I Galahad saw the Grail
The Holy Grail descend upon the shrine
I saw the fiery face as of a child
That smote itself into the bread and went
And hither am I come and never yet
Hath what thy sister taught me first to see
This Holy Thing failed from my side nor come
Covered but moving with me night and day
Fainter by day but always in the night
Blood-red and sliding down the blackened marsh
Blood-red and on the naked mountain top
Blood-red and in the sleeping mere below
Blood-red And in the strength of this I rode
Shattering all evil customs everywhere
And past through Pagan realms and made them mine
And clashed with Pagan hordes and bore them down
And broke through all and in the strength of this
Come victor But my time is hard at hand
And hence I go and one will crown me king
Far in the spiritual city and come thou too
For thou shalt see the vision when I go
While thus he spake his eye dwelling on mine
Drew me with power upon me till I grew
One with him to believe as he believed
Then when the day began to wane we went
There rose a hill that none but man could climb
Scarred with a hundred wintry water-courses 
Storm at the top and when we gained it storm
Round us and death for every moment glanced
His silver arms and gloomed so quick and thick
The lightnings here and there to left and right
Struck till the dry old trunks about us dead
Yea rotten with a hundred years of death
Sprang into fire and at the base we found
On either hand as far as eye could see
A great black swamp and of an evil smell
Part black part whitened with the bones of men
Not to be crost save that some ancient king
Had built a way where linked with many a bridge
A thousand piers ran into the great Sea
And Galahad fled along them bridge by bridge
And every bridge as quickly as he crost
Sprang into fire and vanished though I yearned
To follow and thrice above him all the heavens
Opened and blazed with thunder such as seemed
Shoutings of all the sons of God and first
At once I saw him far on the great Sea
In silver-shining armour starry-clear
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung
Clothed in white samite or a luminous cloud
And with exceeding swiftness ran the boat
If boat it were I saw not whence it came
And when the heavens opened and blazed again
Roaring I saw him like a silver star 
And had he set the sail or had the boat
Become a living creature clad with wings
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel hung
Redder than any rose a joy to me
For now I knew the veil had been withdrawn
Then in a moment when they blazed again
Opening I saw the least of little stars
Down on the waste and straight beyond the star
I saw the spiritual city and all her spires
And gateways in a glory like one pearl 
No larger though the goal of all the saints 
Strike from the sea and from the star there shot
A rose-red sparkle to the city and there
Dwelt and I knew it was the Holy Grail
Which never eyes on earth again shall see
Then fell the floods of heaven drowning the deep
And how my feet recrost the deathful ridge
No memory in me lives but that I touched
The chapel-doors at dawn I know and thence
Taking my war-horse from the holy man
Glad that no phantom vext me more returned
To whence I came the gate of Arthur wars
O brother asked Ambrosius for in sooth
These ancient books and they would win thee teem
Only I find not there this Holy Grail
With miracles and marvels like to these
Not all unlike which oftentime I read
Who read but on my breviary with ease
Till my head swims and then go forth and pass
Down to the little thorpe that lies so close
And almost plastered like a martin nest
To these old walls and mingle with our folk
And knowing every honest face of theirs
As well as ever shepherd knew his sheep
And every homely secret in their hearts
Delight myself with gossip and old wives
And ills and aches and teethings lyings-in
And mirthful sayings children of the place
That have no meaning half a league away
Or lulling random squabbles when they rise
Chafferings and chatterings at the market-cross
Rejoice small man in this small world of mine
Yea even in their hens and in their eggs 
O brother saving this Sir Galahad
All men to one so bound by such a vow
And women were as phantoms O my brother
Why wilt thou shame me to confess to thee
How far I faltered from my quest and vow
For after I had lain so many nights
A bedmate of the snail and eft and snake
In grass and burdock I was changed to wan
And meagre and the vision had not come
And then I chanced upon a goodly town
With one great dwelling in the middle of it
Thither I made and there was I disarmed
By maidens each as fair as any flower
But when they led me into hall behold
The Princess of that castle was the one
Brother and that one only who had ever
Made my heart leap for when I moved of old
A slender page about her father hall
And she a slender maiden all my heart
Went after her with longing yet we twain
Had never kissed a kiss or vowed a vow
And now I came upon her once again
And one had wedded her and he was dead
And all his land and wealth and state were hers
And while I tarried every day she set
A banquet richer than the day before
By me for all her longing and her will
Was toward me as of old till one fair morn
I walking to and fro beside a stream
That flashed across her orchard underneath
Her castle-walls she stole upon my walk
And calling me the greatest of all knights
Embraced me and so kissed me the first time
And gave herself and all her wealth to me
Then I remembered Arthur warning word
That most of us would follow wandering fires
And the Quest faded in my heart Anon
The heads of all her people drew to me
With supplication both of knees and tongue
'We have heard of thee thou art our greatest knight
Our Lady says it and we well believe
Wed thou our Lady and rule over us
And thou shalt be as Arthur in our land
O me my brother but one night my vow
Burnt me within so that I rose and fled
But wailed and wept and hated mine own self
And even the Holy Quest and all but her
Then after I was joined with Galahad
Cared not for her nor anything upon earth
Then said the monk Poor men when yule is cold
Must be content to sit by little fires
And this am I so that ye care for me
Ever so little yea and blest be Heaven
That brought thee here to this poor house of ours
Where all the brethren are so hard to warm
My cold heart with a friend but O the pity
To find thine own first love once more to hold
Hold her a wealthy bride within thine arms
Or all but hold and then cast her aside
Foregoing all her sweetness like a weed
For we that want the warmth of double life
We that are plagued with dreams of something sweet
Beyond all sweetness in a life so rich 
Ah blessed Lord I speak too earthlywise
Seeing I never strayed beyond the cell
But live like an old badger in his earth
With earth about him everywhere despite
All fast and penance Saw ye none beside
One night my pathway swerving east I saw
The pelican on the casque of our Sir Bors
All in the middle of the rising moon
And toward him spurred and hailed him and he me
And each made joy of either then he asked
'Where is he hast thou seen him Lancelot Once
Said good Sir Bors 'he dashed across me mad
And maddening what he rode and when I cried
Ridest thou then so hotly on a quest
So holy Lancelot shouted Stay me not
I have been the sluggard and I ride apace
For now there is a lion in the way
Softly and sorrowing for our Lancelot
Because his former madness once the talk
And scandal of our table had returned
For Lancelot kith and kin so worship him
That ill to him is ill to them to Bors
Beyond the rest he well had been content
Not to have seen so Lancelot might have seen
The Holy Cup of healing and indeed
Being so clouded with his grief and love
Small heart was his after the Holy Quest
If God would send the vision well if not
The Quest and he were in the hands of Heaven
And then with small adventure met Sir Bors
Rode to the lonest tract of all the realm
And found a people there among their crags
Our race and blood a remnant that were left
Paynim amid their circles and the stones
They pitch up straight to heaven and their wise men
Were strong in that old magic which can trace
The wandering of the stars and scoffed at him
And this high Quest as at a simple thing
Told him he followed almost Arthur words 
A mocking fire 'what other fire than he
Whereby the blood beats and the blossom blows
And the sea rolls and all the world is warmed
And when his answer chafed them the rough crowd
Hearing he had a difference with their priests
Seized him and bound and plunged him into a cell
Of great piled stones and lying bounden there
In darkness through innumerable hours
He heard the hollow-ringing heavens sweep
Over him till by miracle what else 
Heavy as it was a great stone slipt and fell
Such as no wind could move and through the gap
Glimmered the streaming scud then came a night
Still as the day was loud and through the gap
The seven clear stars of Arthur Table Round 
For brother so one night because they roll
Through such a round in heaven we named the stars
Rejoicing in ourselves and in our King 
And these like bright eyes of familiar friends
In on him shone 'And then to me to me
Said good Sir Bors 'beyond all hopes of mine
Who scarce had prayed or asked it for myself 
Across the seven clear stars O grace to me 
In colour like the fingers of a hand
Before a burning taper the sweet Grail
Glided and past and close upon it pealed
A sharp quick thunder' Afterwards a maid
Who kept our holy faith among her kin
In secret entering loosed and let him go
To whom the monk And I remember now
That pelican on the casque Sir Bors it was
Who spake so low and sadly at our board
And mighty reverent at our grace was he
A square-set man and honest and his eyes
An out-door sign of all the warmth within
Smiled with his lips a smile beneath a cloud
But heaven had meant it for a sunny one
Ay ay Sir Bors who else But when ye reached
The city found ye all your knights returned
Or was there sooth in Arthur prophecy
Tell me and what said each and what the King
Then answered Percivale And that can I
Brother and truly since the living words
Of so great men as Lancelot and our King
Pass not from door to door and out again
But sit within the house O when we reached
The city our horses stumbling as they trode
On heaps of ruin hornless unicorns
Cracked basilisks and splintered cockatrices
And shattered talbots which had left the stones
Raw that they fell from brought us to the hall
And there sat Arthur on the dais-throne
And those that had gone out upon the Quest
Wasted and worn and but a tithe of them
And those that had not stood before the King
Who when he saw me rose and bad me hail
Saying 'A welfare in thine eye reproves
Our fear of some disastrous chance for thee
On hill or plain at sea or flooding ford
So fierce a gale made havoc here of late
Among the strange devices of our kings
Yea shook this newer stronger hall of ours
And from the statue Merlin moulded for us
Half-wrenched a golden wing but now the Quest
This vision hast thou seen the Holy Cup
That Joseph brought of old to Glastonbury
So when I told him all thyself hast heard
Ambrosius and my fresh but fixt resolve
To pass away into the quiet life
He answered not but sharply turning asked
Of Gawain 'Gawain was this Quest for thee
'Nay lord' said Gawain 'not for such as I
Therefore I communed with a saintly man
Who made me sure the Quest was not for me
For I was much awearied of the Quest
But found a silk pavilion in a field
And merry maidens in it and then this gale
Tore my pavilion from the tenting-pin
And blew my merry maidens all about
With all discomfort yea and but for this
My twelvemonth and a day were pleasant to me
He ceased and Arthur turned to whom at first
He saw not for Sir Bors on entering pushed
Athwart the throng to Lancelot caught his hand
Held it and there half-hidden by him stood
Until the King espied him saying to him
'Hail Bors if ever loyal man and true
Could see it thou hast seen the Grail' and Bors
'Ask me not for I may not speak of it
I saw it' and the tears were in his eyes
Then there remained but Lancelot for the rest
Spake but of sundry perils in the storm
Perhaps like him of Cana in Holy Writ
Our Arthur kept his best until the last
'Thou too my Lancelot' asked the king 'my friend
Our mightiest hath this Quest availed for thee
'Our mightiest' answered Lancelot with a groan
'O King' and when he paused methought I spied
A dying fire of madness in his eyes 
'O King my friend if friend of thine I be
Happier are those that welter in their sin
Swine in the mud that cannot see for slime
Slime of the ditch but in me lived a sin
So strange of such a kind that all of pure
Noble and knightly in me twined and clung
Round that one sin until the wholesome flower
And poisonous grew together each as each
Not to be plucked asunder and when thy knights
Sware I sware with them only in the hope
That could I touch or see the Holy Grail
They might be plucked asunder Then I spake
To one most holy saint who wept and said
That save they could be plucked asunder all
My quest were but in vain to whom I vowed
That I would work according as he willed
And forth I went and while I yearned and strove
To tear the twain asunder in my heart
My madness came upon me as of old
And whipt me into waste fields far away
There was I beaten down by little men
Mean knights to whom the moving of my sword
And shadow of my spear had been enow
To scare them from me once and then I came
All in my folly to the naked shore
Wide flats where nothing but coarse grasses grew
But such a blast my King began to blow
So loud a blast along the shore and sea
Ye could not hear the waters for the blast
Though heapt in mounds and ridges all the sea
Drove like a cataract and all the sand
Swept like a river and the clouded heavens
Were shaken with the motion and the sound
And blackening in the sea-foam swayed a boat
Half-swallowed in it anchored with a chain
And in my madness to myself I said
I will embark and I will lose myself
And in the great sea wash away my sin
I burst the chain I sprang into the boat
Seven days I drove along the dreary deep
And with me drove the moon and all the stars
And the wind fell and on the seventh night
I heard the shingle grinding in the surge
And felt the boat shock earth and looking up
Behold the enchanted towers of Carbonek
A castle like a rock upon a rock
With chasm-like portals open to the sea
And steps that met the breaker there was none
Stood near it but a lion on each side
That kept the entry and the moon was full
Then from the boat I leapt and up the stairs
There drew my sword With sudden-flaring manes
Those two great beasts rose upright like a man
Each gript a shoulder and I stood between
And when I would have smitten them heard a voice
Doubt not go forward if thou doubt the beasts
Will tear thee piecemeal Then with violence
The sword was dashed from out my hand and fell
And up into the sounding hall I past
But nothing in the sounding hall I saw
No bench nor table painting on the wall
Or shield of knight only the rounded moon
Through the tall oriel on the rolling sea
But always in the quiet house I heard
Clear as a lark high o'er me as a lark
A sweet voice singing in the topmost tower
To the eastward up I climbed a thousand steps
With pain as in a dream I seemed to climb
For ever at the last I reached a door
A light was in the crannies and I heard
Glory and joy and honour to our Lord
And to the Holy Vessel of the Grail
Then in my madness I essayed the door
It gave and through a stormy glare a heat
As from a seventimes-heated furnace I
Blasted and burnt and blinded as I was
With such a fierceness that I swooned away 
O yet methought I saw the Holy Grail
All palled in crimson samite and around
Great angels awful shapes and wings and eyes
And but for all my madness and my sin
And then my swooning I had sworn I saw
That which I saw but what I saw was veiled
And covered and this Quest was not for me
So speaking and here ceasing Lancelot left
The hall long silent till Sir Gawain nay
Brother I need not tell thee foolish words 
A reckless and irreverent knight was he
Now boldened by the silence of his King 
Well I will tell thee 'O King my liege' he said
'Hath Gawain failed in any quest of thine
When have I stinted stroke in foughten field
But as for thine my good friend Percivale
Thy holy nun and thou have driven men mad
Yea made our mightiest madder than our least
But by mine eyes and by mine ears I swear
I will be deafer than the blue-eyed cat
And thrice as blind as any noonday owl
To holy virgins in their ecstasies
'Gawain and blinder unto holy things
Hope not to make thyself by idle vows
Being too blind to have desire to see
But if indeed there came a sign from heaven
Blessed are Bors Lancelot and Percivale
For these have seen according to their sight
For every fiery prophet in old times
And all the sacred madness of the bard
When God made music through them could but speak
His music by the framework and the chord
And as ye saw it ye have spoken truth
'Nay but thou errest Lancelot never yet
Could all of true and noble in knight and man
Twine round one sin whatever it might be
With such a closeness but apart there grew
Save that he were the swine thou spakest of
Some root of knighthood and pure nobleness
Whereto see thou that it may bear its flower
'And spake I not too truly O my knights
Was I too dark a prophet when I said
To those who went upon the Holy Quest
That most of them would follow wandering fires
Lost in the quagmire lost to me and gone
And left me gazing at a barren board
And a lean Order scarce returned a tithe 
And out of those to whom the vision came
My greatest hardly will believe he saw
Another hath beheld it afar off
And leaving human wrongs to right themselves
Cares but to pass into the silent life
And one hath had the vision face to face
And now his chair desires him here in vain
However they may crown him otherwhere
'And some among you held that if the King
Had seen the sight he would have sworn the vow
Not easily seeing that the King must guard
That which he rules and is but as the hind
To whom a space of land is given to plow
Who may not wander from the allotted field
Before his work be done but being done
Let visions of the night or of the day
Come as they will and many a time they come
Until this earth he walks on seems not earth
This light that strikes his eyeball is not light
This air that smites his forehead is not air
But vision yea his very hand and foot 
In moments when he feels he cannot die
And knows himself no vision to himself
Nor the high God a vision nor that One
Who rose again ye have seen what ye have seen
So spake the King I knew not all he meant
King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
Left by the Holy Quest and as he sat
In hall at old Caerleon the high doors
Were softly sundered and through these a youth
Pelleas and the sweet smell of the fields
Past and the sunshine came along with him
Make me thy knight because I know Sir King
All that belongs to knighthood and I love
Such was his cry for having heard the King
Had let proclaim a tournament the prize
A golden circlet and a knightly sword
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won
The golden circlet for himself the sword
And there were those who knew him near the King
And promised for him and Arthur made him knight
And this new knight Sir Pelleas of the isles 
But lately come to his inheritance
And lord of many a barren isle was he 
Riding at noon a day or twain before
Across the forest called of Dean to find
Caerleon and the King had felt the sun
Beat like a strong knight on his helm and reeled
Almost to falling from his horse but saw
Near him a mound of even-sloping side
Whereon a hundred stately beeches grew
And here and there great hollies under them
But for a mile all round was open space
And fern and heath and slowly Pelleas drew
To that dim day then binding his good horse
To a tree cast himself down and as he lay
At random looking over the brown earth
Through that green-glooming twilight of the grove
It seemed to Pelleas that the fern without
Burnt as a living fire of emeralds
So that his eyes were dazzled looking at it
Then o'er it crost the dimness of a cloud
Floating and once the shadow of a bird
Flying and then a fawn and his eyes closed
And since he loved all maidens but no maid
In special half-awake he whispered Where
O where I love thee though I know thee not
For fair thou art and pure as Guinevere
And I will make thee with my spear and sword
As famous O my Queen my Guinevere
For I will be thine Arthur when we meet
Suddenly wakened with a sound of talk
And laughter at the limit of the wood
And glancing through the hoary boles he saw
Strange as to some old prophet might have seemed
A vision hovering on a sea of fire
Damsels in divers colours like the cloud
Of sunset and sunrise and all of them
On horses and the horses richly trapt
Breast-high in that bright line of bracken stood
And all the damsels talked confusedly
And one was pointing this way and one that
And loosed his horse and led him to the light
There she that seemed the chief among them said
In happy time behold our pilot-star
Youth we are damsels-errant and we ride
Armed as ye see to tilt against the knights
There at Caerleon but have lost our way
To right to left straight forward back again
Is Guinevere herself so beautiful
For large her violet eyes looked and her bloom
A rosy dawn kindled in stainless heavens
And round her limbs mature in womanhood
And slender was her hand and small her shape
And but for those large eyes the haunts of scorn
She might have seemed a toy to trifle with
And pass and care no more But while he gazed
The beauty of her flesh abashed the boy
As though it were the beauty of her soul
For as the base man judging of the good
Puts his own baseness in him by default
Of will and nature so did Pelleas lend
All the young beauty of his own soul to hers
Believing her and when she spake to him
Stammered and could not make her a reply
For out of the waste islands had he come
Where saving his own sisters he had known
Scarce any but the women of his isles
Rough wives that laughed and screamed against the gulls
Makers of nets and living from the sea
Then with a slow smile turned the lady round
And looked upon her people and as when
A stone is flung into some sleeping tarn
The circle widens till it lip the marge
Spread the slow smile through all her company
Three knights were thereamong and they too smiled
Scorning him for the lady was Ettarre
And she was a great lady in her land
Again she said O wild and of the woods
Knowest thou not the fashion of our speech
Or have the Heavens but given thee a fair face
I woke from dreams and coming out of gloom
Was dazzled by the sudden light and crave
Pardon but will ye to Caerleon I
Go likewise shall I lead you to the King
Lead then she said and through the woods they went
And while they rode the meaning in his eyes
His tenderness of manner and chaste awe
His broken utterances and bashfulness
Were all a burthen to her and in her heart
She muttered I have lighted on a fool
Raw yet so stale But since her mind was bent
On hearing after trumpet blown her name
And title Queen of Beauty in the lists
Cried and beholding him so strong she thought
That peradventure he will fight for me
And win the circlet therefore flattered him
Being so gracious that he wellnigh deemed
His wish by hers was echoed and her knights
And all her damsels too were gracious to him
Caerleon ere they past to lodging she
Taking his hand O the strong hand she said
See look at mine but wilt thou fight for me
And win me this fine circlet Pelleas
Leapt and he cried Ay wilt thou if I win
Ay that will I she answered and she laughed
And straitly nipt the hand and flung it from her
Then glanced askew at those three knights of hers
Till all her ladies laughed along with her
O happy world thought Pelleas all meseems
Are happy I the happiest of them all
Nor slept that night for pleasure in his blood
And green wood-ways and eyes among the leaves
Then being on the morrow knighted sware
To love one only And as he came away
The men who met him rounded on their heels
And wondered after him because his face
Shone like the countenance of a priest of old
Against the flame about a sacrifice
Kindled by fire from heaven so glad was he
Then Arthur made vast banquets and strange knights
From the four winds came in and each one sat
Though served with choice from air land stream and sea
Oft in mid-banquet measuring with his eyes
His neighbour make and might and Pelleas looked
Noble among the noble for he dreamed
His lady loved him and he knew himself
Loved of the King and him his new-made knight
Worshipt whose lightest whisper moved him more
Than all the ranged reasons of the world
Then blushed and brake the morning of the jousts
And this was called The Tournament of Youth
For Arthur loving his young knight withheld
His older and his mightier from the lists
That Pelleas might obtain his lady love
According to her promise and remain
Lord of the tourney And Arthur had the jousts
Down in the flat field by the shore of Usk
Holden the gilded parapets were crowned
With faces and the great tower filled with eyes
Up to the summit and the trumpets blew
There all day long Sir Pelleas kept the field
With honour so by that strong hand of his
The sword and golden circlet were achieved
Then rang the shout his lady loved the heat
Of pride and glory fired her face her eye
Sparkled she caught the circlet from his lance
And there before the people crowned herself
So for the last time she was gracious to him
Then at Caerleon for a space her look
Bright for all others cloudier on her knight 
Lingered Ettarre and seeing Pelleas droop
Said Guinevere We marvel at thee much
O damsel wearing this unsunny face
To him who won thee glory And she said
Had ye not held your Lancelot in your bower
My Queen he had not won Whereat the Queen
As one whose foot is bitten by an ant
Glanced down upon her turned and went her way
But after when her damsels and herself
And those three knights all set their faces home
Sir Pelleas followed She that saw him cried
Damsels and yet I should be shamed to say it 
I cannot bide Sir Baby Keep him back
Among yourselves Would rather that we had
Some rough old knight who knew the worldly way
Albeit grizzlier than a bear to ride
And jest with take him to you keep him off
And pamper him with papmeat if ye will
Old milky fables of the wolf and sheep
Such as the wholesome mothers tell their boys
Nay should ye try him with a merry one
To find his mettle good and if he fly us
Small matter let him This her damsels heard
And mindful of her small and cruel hand
They closing round him through the journey home
Acted her hest and always from her side
Restrained him with all manner of device
So that he could not come to speech with her
And when she gained her castle upsprang the bridge
Down rang the grate of iron through the groove
And he was left alone in open field
These be the ways of ladies Pelleas thought
To those who love them trials of our faith
Yea let her prove me to the uttermost
For loyal to the uttermost am I
So made his moan and darkness falling sought
A priory not far off there lodged but rose
With morning every day and moist or dry
Full-armed upon his charger all day long
Sat by the walls and no one opened to him
And this persistence turned her scorn to wrath
Then calling her three knights she charged them Out
And drive him from the walls And out they came
But Pelleas overthrew them as they dashed
Against him one by one and these returned
But still he kept his watch beneath the wall
Thereon her wrath became a hate and once
A week beyond while walking on the walls
With her three knights she pointed downward Look
He haunts me I cannot breathe besieges me
Down strike him put my hate into your strokes
And drive him from my walls And down they went
And Pelleas overthrew them one by one
And from the tower above him cried Ettarre
Then let the strong hand which had overthrown
Her minion-knights by those he overthrew
Be bounden straight and so they brought him in
Then when he came before Ettarre the sight
Of her rich beauty made him at one glance
More bondsman in his heart than in his bonds
Yet with good cheer he spake Behold me Lady
A prisoner and the vassal of thy will
And if thou keep me in thy donjon here
Content am I so that I see thy face
But once a day for I have sworn my vows
And thou hast given thy promise and I know
That all these pains are trials of my faith
And that thyself when thou hast seen me strained
And sifted to the utmost wilt at length
Yield me thy love and know me for thy knight
Then she began to rail so bitterly
With all her damsels he was stricken mute
But when she mocked his vows and the great King
Lighted on words For pity of thine own self
Peace Lady peace is he not thine and mine
Thou fool she said I never heard his voice
But longed to break away Unbind him now
And thrust him out of doors for save he be
Fool to the midmost marrow of his bones
He will return no more And those her three
Laughed and unbound and thrust him from the gate
And after this a week beyond again
She called them saying There he watches yet
There like a dog before his master door
Kicked he returns do ye not hate him ye
Ye know yourselves how can ye bide at peace
Affronted with his fulsome innocence
Are ye but creatures of the board and bed
No men to strike Fall on him all at once
And if ye slay him I reck not if ye fail
Give ye the slave mine order to be bound
Bind him as heretofore and bring him in
It may be ye shall slay him in his bonds
She spake and at her will they couched their spears
Three against one and Gawain passing by
Bound upon solitary adventure saw
Low down beneath the shadow of those towers
A villainy three to one and through his heart
The fire of honour and all noble deeds
Flashed and he called I strike upon thy side 
The caitiffs Nay said Pelleas but forbear
He needs no aid who doth his lady will
So Gawain looking at the villainy done
Forbore but in his heat and eagerness
Trembled and quivered as the dog withheld
A moment from the vermin that he sees
Before him shivers ere he springs and kills
And Pelleas overthrew them one to three
And they rose up and bound and brought him in
Then first her anger leaving Pelleas burned
Full on her knights in many an evil name
Of craven weakling and thrice-beaten hound
Yet take him ye that scarce are fit to touch
Far less to bind your victor and thrust him out
And let who will release him from his bonds
And if he comes again there she brake short
And Pelleas answered Lady for indeed
I loved you and I deemed you beautiful
I cannot brook to see your beauty marred
Through evil spite and if ye love me not
I cannot bear to dream you so forsworn
I had liefer ye were worthy of my love
Than to be loved again of you farewell
And though ye kill my hope not yet my love
Vex not yourself ye will not see me more
While thus he spake she gazed upon the man
Of princely bearing though in bonds and thought
Why have I pushed him from me this man loves
If love there be yet him I loved not Why
I deemed him fool yea so or that in him
A something was it nobler than myself
Seemed my reproach He is not of my kind
He could not love me did he know me well
Nay let him go and quickly And her knights
Laughed not but thrust him bounden out of door
Forth sprang Gawain and loosed him from his bonds
And flung them o'er the walls and afterward
Shaking his hands as from a lazar rag
Faith of my body he said and art thou not 
Yea thou art he whom late our Arthur made
Knight of his table yea and he that won
The circlet wherefore hast thou so defamed
Thy brotherhood in me and all the rest
As let these caitiffs on thee work their will
And Pelleas answered O their wills are hers
For whom I won the circlet and mine hers
Thus to be bounden so to see her face
Marred though it be with spite and mockery now
Other than when I found her in the woods
And though she hath me bounden but in spite
And all to flout me when they bring me in
Let me be bounden I shall see her face
Else must I die through mine unhappiness
And Gawain answered kindly though in scorn
Why let my lady bind me if she will
And let my lady beat me if she will
But an she send her delegate to thrall
These fighting hands of mine Christ kill me then
But I will slice him handless by the wrist
And let my lady sear the stump for him
Howl as he may But hold me for your friend
Come ye know nothing here I pledge my troth
Yea by the honour of the Table Round
I will be leal to thee and work thy work
And tame thy jailing princess to thine hand
Lend me thine horse and arms and I will say
That I have slain thee She will let me in
To hear the manner of thy fight and fall
Then when I come within her counsels then
From prime to vespers will I chant thy praise
As prowest knight and truest lover more
Than any have sung thee living till she long
To have thee back in lusty life again
Not to be bound save by white bonds and warm
Dearer than freedom Wherefore now thy horse
And armour let me go be comforted
Give me three days to melt her fancy and hope
The third night hence will bring thee news of gold
Then Pelleas lent his horse and all his arms
Saving the goodly sword his prize and took
Gawain and said Betray me not but help 
Art thou not he whom men call light-of-love
Ay said Gawain for women be so light
Then bounded forward to the castle walls
And raised a bugle hanging from his neck
And winded it and that so musically
That all the old echoes hidden in the wall
Rang out like hollow woods at hunting-tide
Up ran a score of damsels to the tower
Avaunt they cried our lady loves thee not
But Gawain lifting up his vizor said
Gawain am I Gawain of Arthur court
And I have slain this Pelleas whom ye hate
Behold his horse and armour Open gates
Her damsels crying to their lady Lo
Pelleas is dead he told us he that hath
His horse and armour will ye let him in
He slew him Gawain Gawain of the court
Sir Gawain there he waits below the wall
Blowing his bugle as who should say him nay
And so leave given straight on through open door
Rode Gawain whom she greeted courteously
Dead is it so she asked Ay ay said he
And oft in dying cried upon your name
Pity on him she answered a good knight
But never let me bide one hour at peace
Ay thought Gawain and you be fair enow
But I to your dead man have given my troth
That whom ye loathe him will I make you love
So those three days aimless about the land
Lost in a doubt Pelleas wandering
Waited until the third night brought a moon
With promise of large light on woods and ways
Hot was the night and silent but a sound
Of Gawain ever coming and this lay 
Which Pelleas had heard sung before the Queen
And seen her sadden listening vext his heart
And marred his rest A worm within the rose
A rose but one none other rose had I
A rose one rose and this was wondrous fair
One rose a rose that gladdened earth and sky
One rose my rose that sweetened all mine air 
I cared not for the thorns the thorns were there
One rose a rose to gather by and by
One rose a rose to gather and to wear
No rose but one what other rose had I
One rose my rose a rose that will not die 
He dies who loves it if the worm be there
This tender rhyme and evermore the doubt
Why lingers Gawain with his golden news
So shook him that he could not rest but rode
Ere midnight to her walls and bound his horse
Hard by the gates Wide open were the gates
And no watch kept and in through these he past
And heard but his own steps and his own heart
Beating for nothing moved but his own self
And his own shadow Then he crost the court
And spied not any light in hall or bower
But saw the postern portal also wide
Yawning and up a slope of garden all
Of roses white and red and brambles mixt
And overgrowing them went on and found
Here too all hushed below the mellow moon
Save that one rivulet from a tiny cave
Came lightening downward and so spilt itself
Among the roses and was lost again
Then was he ware of three pavilions reared
Above the bushes gilden-peakt in one
Red after revel droned her lurdane knights
Slumbering and their three squires across their feet
In one their malice on the placid lip
Frozen by sweet sleep four of her damsels lay
And in the third the circlet of the jousts
Bound on her brow were Gawain and Ettarre
Back as a hand that pushes through the leaf
To find a nest and feels a snake he drew
Back as a coward slinks from what he fears
To cope with or a traitor proven or hound
Beaten did Pelleas in an utter shame
Creep with his shadow through the court again
Fingering at his sword-handle until he stood
There on the castle-bridge once more and thought
I will go back and slay them where they lie
And so went back and seeing them yet in sleep
Said Ye that so dishallow the holy sleep
Your sleep is death and drew the sword and thought
What slay a sleeping knight the King hath bound
And sworn me to this brotherhood again
Alas that ever a knight should be so false
Then turned and so returned and groaning laid
The naked sword athwart their naked throats
There left it and them sleeping and she lay
The circlet of her tourney round her brows
And the sword of the tourney across her throat
And forth he past and mounting on his horse
Stared at her towers that larger than themselves
In their own darkness thronged into the moon
Then crushed the saddle with his thighs and clenched
His hands and maddened with himself and moaned
Would they have risen against me in their blood
At the last day I might have answered them
Even before high God O towers so strong
Huge solid would that even while I gaze
The crack of earthquake shivering to your base
Split you and Hell burst up your harlot roofs
Bellowing and charred you through and through within
Black as the harlot heart hollow as a skull
Let the fierce east scream through your eyelet-holes
And whirl the dust of harlots round and round
In dung and nettles hiss snake I saw him there 
Let the fox bark let the wolf yell Who yells
Here in the still sweet summer night but I 
I the poor Pelleas whom she called her fool
Fool beast he she or I myself most fool
Beast too as lacking human wit disgraced
Dishonoured all for trial of true love 
Love we be all alike only the King
Hath made us fools and liars O noble vows
O great and sane and simple race of brutes
That own no lust because they have no law
For why should I have loved her to my shame
I loathe her as I loved her to my shame
I never loved her I but lusted for her 
And bounded forth and vanished through the night
Then she that felt the cold touch on her throat
Awaking knew the sword and turned herself
To Gawain Liar for thou hast not slain
This Pelleas here he stood and might have slain
Me and thyself And he that tells the tale
Says that her ever-veering fancy turned
To Pelleas as the one true knight on earth
And only lover and through her love her life
Wasted and pined desiring him in vain
But he by wild and way for half the night
And over hard and soft striking the sod
From out the soft the spark from off the hard
Rode till the star above the wakening sun
Beside that tower where Percivale was cowled
Glanced from the rosy forehead of the dawn
For so the words were flashed into his heart
He knew not whence or wherefore O sweet star
Pure on the virgin forehead of the dawn
And there he would have wept but felt his eyes
Harder and drier than a fountain bed
In summer thither came the village girls
And lingered talking and they come no more
Till the sweet heavens have filled it from the heights
Again with living waters in the change
Of seasons hard his eyes harder his heart
Seemed but so weary were his limbs that he
Gasping Of Arthur hall am I but here
Here let me rest and die cast himself down
And gulfed his griefs in inmost sleep so lay
Till shaken by a dream that Gawain fired
The hall of Merlin and the morning star
Reeled in the smoke brake into flame and fell
He woke and being ware of some one nigh
Sent hands upon him as to tear him crying
False and I held thee pure as Guinevere
But Percivale stood near him and replied
Am I but false as Guinevere is pure
Or art thou mazed with dreams or being one
Of our free-spoken Table hast not heard
That Lancelot there he checked himself and paused
Then fared it with Sir Pelleas as with one
Who gets a wound in battle and the sword
That made it plunges through the wound again
And pricks it deeper and he shrank and wailed
Is the Queen false and Percivale was mute
Have any of our Round Table held their vows
And Percivale made answer not a word
Is the King true The King said Percivale
Why then let men couple at once with wolves
Ran through the doors and vaulted on his horse
And fled small pity upon his horse had he
Or on himself or any and when he met
A cripple one that held a hand for alms 
Hunched as he was and like an old dwarf-elm
That turns its back upon the salt blast the boy
Paused not but overrode him shouting False
And false with Gawain and so left him bruised
And battered and fled on and hill and wood
Went ever streaming by him till the gloom
That follows on the turning of the world
Darkened the common path he twitched the reins
And made his beast that better knew it swerve
Now off it and now on but when he saw
High up in heaven the hall that Merlin built
Blackening against the dead-green stripes of even
Black nest of rats he groaned ye build too high
Not long thereafter from the city gates
Issued Sir Lancelot riding airily
Warm with a gracious parting from the Queen
Peace at his heart and gazing at a star
And marvelling what it was on whom the boy
Across the silent seeded meadow-grass
Borne clashed and Lancelot saying What name hast thou
That ridest here so blindly and so hard
No name no name he shouted a scourge am I
To lash the treasons of the Table Round
Yea but thy name I have many names he cried
I am wrath and shame and hate and evil fame
And like a poisonous wind I pass to blast
And blaze the crime of Lancelot and the Queen
First over me said Lancelot shalt thou pass
Fight therefore yelled the youth and either knight
Drew back a space and when they closed at once
The weary steed of Pelleas floundering flung
His rider who called out from the dark field
Thou art as false as Hell slay me I have no sword
Then Lancelot Yea between thy lips and sharp
But here I will disedge it by thy death
Slay then he shrieked my will is to be slain
And Lancelot with his heel upon the fallen
Rolling his eyes a moment stood then spake
Rise weakling I am Lancelot say thy say
And Lancelot slowly rode his warhorse back
To Camelot and Sir Pelleas in brief while
Caught his unbroken limbs from the dark field
And followed to the city It chanced that both
Brake into hall together worn and pale
There with her knights and dames was Guinevere
Full wonderingly she gazed on Lancelot
So soon returned and then on Pelleas him
Who had not greeted her but cast himself
Down on a bench hard-breathing Have ye fought
She asked of Lancelot Ay my Queen he said
And hast thou overthrown him Ay my Queen
Then she turning to Pelleas O young knight
Hath the great heart of knighthood in thee failed
So far thou canst not bide unfrowardly
A fall from him Then for he answered not
Or hast thou other griefs If I the Queen
May help them loose thy tongue and let me know
But Pelleas lifted up an eye so fierce
She quailed and he hissing I have no sword
Sprang from the door into the dark The Queen
Looked hard upon her lover he on her
And each foresaw the dolorous day to be
And all talk died as in a grove all song
Beneath the shadow of some bird of prey
Then a long silence came upon the hall
And Modred thought The time is hard at hand
Dagonet the fool whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur Table Round
At Camelot high above the yellowing woods
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall
And toward him from the hall with harp in hand
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday
Came Tristram saying Why skip ye so Sir Fool
For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail A stump of oak half-dead
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes
Clutched at the crag and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle nest and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind and through the wind
Pierced ever a child cry and crag and tree
Scaling Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck
And all unscarred from beak or talon brought
A maiden babe which Arthur pitying took
Then gave it to his Queen to rear the Queen
But coldly acquiescing in her white arms
Received and after loved it tenderly
And named it Nestling so forgot herself
A moment and her cares till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child
So she delivering it to Arthur said
Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence
And make them an thou wilt a tourney-prize
To whom the King Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling and this honour after death
Following thy will but O my Queen I muse
Why ye not wear on arm or neck or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn
And Lancelot won methought for thee to wear
Would rather you had let them fall she cried
Plunge and be lost ill-fated as they were
A bitterness to me ye look amazed
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given 
Slid from my hands when I was leaning out
Above the river that unhappy child
Past in her barge but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer
But the sweet body of a maiden babe
Perchance who knows the purest of thy knights
May win them for the purest of my maids
She ended and the cry of a great jousts
With trumpet-blowings ran on all the ways
From Camelot in among the faded fields
To furthest towers and everywhere the knights
Armed for a day of glory before the King
But on the hither side of that loud morn
Into the hall staggered his visage ribbed
From ear to ear with dogwhip-weals his nose
Bridge-broken one eye out and one hand off
And one with shattered fingers dangling lame
A churl to whom indignantly the King
My churl for whom Christ died what evil beast
Hath drawn his claws athwart thy face or fiend
Man was it who marred heaven image in thee thus
Then sputtering through the hedge of splintered teeth
Yet strangers to the tongue and with blunt stump
Pitch-blackened sawing the air said the maimed churl
He took them and he drave them to his tower 
Some hold he was a table-knight of thine 
A hundred goodly ones the Red Knight he 
Lord I was tending swine and the Red Knight
Brake in upon me and drave them to his tower
And when I called upon thy name as one
That doest right by gentle and by churl
Maimed me and mauled and would outright have slain
Save that he sware me to a message saying
'Tell thou the King and all his liars that I
Have founded my Round Table in the North
And whatsoever his own knights have sworn
My knights have sworn the counter to it and say
My tower is full of harlots like his court
But mine are worthier seeing they profess
To be none other than themselves and say
My knights are all adulterers like his own
But mine are truer seeing they profess
To be none other and say his hour is come
The heathen are upon him his long lance
Broken and his Excalibur a straw'
Then Arthur turned to Kay the seneschal
Take thou my churl and tend him curiously
Like a king heir till all his hurts be whole
The heathen but that ever-climbing wave
Hurled back again so often in empty foam
Hath lain for years at rest and renegades
Thieves bandits leavings of confusion whom
The wholesome realm is purged of otherwhere
Friends through your manhood and your fealty now
Make their last head like Satan in the North
My younger knights new-made in whom your flower
Waits to be solid fruit of golden deeds
Move with me toward their quelling which achieved
The loneliest ways are safe from shore to shore
But thou Sir Lancelot sitting in my place
Enchaired tomorrow arbitrate the field
For wherefore shouldst thou care to mingle with it
Only to yield my Queen her own again
Speak Lancelot thou art silent is it well
Thereto Sir Lancelot answered It is well
Yet better if the King abide and leave
The leading of his younger knights to me
Else for the King has willed it it is well
Then Arthur rose and Lancelot followed him
And while they stood without the doors the King
Turned to him saying Is it then so well
Or mine the blame that oft I seem as he
Of whom was written 'A sound is in his ears'
The foot that loiters bidden go the glance
That only seems half-loyal to command 
A manner somewhat fallen from reverence 
Or have I dreamed the bearing of our knights
Tells of a manhood ever less and lower
Or whence the fear lest this my realm upreared
By noble deeds at one with noble vows
From flat confusion and brute violences
Reel back into the beast and be no more
He spoke and taking all his younger knights
Down the slope city rode and sharply turned
North by the gate In her high bower the Queen
Working a tapestry lifted up her head
Watched her lord pass and knew not that she sighed
Then ran across her memory the strange rhyme
Of bygone Merlin Where is he who knows
From the great deep to the great deep he goes
But when the morning of a tournament
By these in earnest those in mockery called
The Tournament of the Dead Innocence
Brake with a wet wind blowing Lancelot
Round whose sick head all night like birds of prey
The words of Arthur flying shrieked arose
And down a streetway hung with folds of pure
White samite and by fountains running wine
Where children sat in white with cups of gold
Moved to the lists and there with slow sad steps
Ascending filled his double-dragoned chair
He glanced and saw the stately galleries
Dame damsel each through worship of their Queen
White-robed in honour of the stainless child
And some with scattered jewels like a bank
Of maiden snow mingled with sparks of fire
He looked but once and vailed his eyes again
The sudden trumpet sounded as in a dream
To ears but half-awaked then one low roll
Of Autumn thunder and the jousts began
And ever the wind blew and yellowing leaf
And gloom and gleam and shower and shorn plume
Went down it Sighing weariedly as one
Who sits and gazes on a faded fire
When all the goodlier guests are past away
Sat their great umpire looking o'er the lists
He saw the laws that ruled the tournament
Broken but spake not once a knight cast down
Before his throne of arbitration cursed
The dead babe and the follies of the King
And once the laces of a helmet cracked
And showed him like a vermin in its hole
Modred a narrow face anon he heard
The voice that billowed round the barriers roar
An ocean-sounding welcome to one knight
But newly-entered taller than the rest
And armoured all in forest green whereon
There tript a hundred tiny silver deer
And wearing but a holly-spray for crest
With ever-scattering berries and on shield
A spear a harp a bugle Tristram late
From overseas in Brittany returned
And marriage with a princess of that realm
Isolt the White Sir Tristram of the Woods 
Whom Lancelot knew had held sometime with pain
His own against him and now yearned to shake
The burthen off his heart in one full shock
With Tristram even to death his strong hands gript
And dinted the gilt dragons right and left
Until he groaned for wrath so many of those
That ware their ladies' colours on the casque
Drew from before Sir Tristram to the bounds
And there with gibes and flickering mockeries
Stood while he muttered Craven crests O shame
What faith have these in whom they sware to love
The glory of our Round Table is no more
So Tristram won and Lancelot gave the gems
Not speaking other word than Hast thou won
Art thou the purest brother See the hand
Wherewith thou takest this is red to whom
Tristram half plagued by Lancelot languorous mood
Made answer Ay but wherefore toss me this
Like a dry bone cast to some hungry hound
Lest be thy fair Queen fantasy Strength of heart
And might of limb but mainly use and skill
Are winners in this pastime of our King
My hand belike the lance hath dript upon it 
No blood of mine I trow but O chief knight
Right arm of Arthur in the battlefield
Great brother thou nor I have made the world
Be happy in thy fair Queen as I in mine
And Tristram round the gallery made his horse
Caracole then bowed his homage bluntly saying
Fair damsels each to him who worships each
Sole Queen of Beauty and of love behold
This day my Queen of Beauty is not here
And most of these were mute some angered one
Murmuring All courtesy is dead and one
The glory of our Round Table is no more
Then fell thick rain plume droopt and mantle clung
And pettish cries awoke and the wan day
Went glooming down in wet and weariness
But under her black brows a swarthy one
Laughed shrilly crying Praise the patient saints
Our one white day of Innocence hath past
Though somewhat draggled at the skirt So be it
The snowdrop only flowering through the year
Would make the world as blank as Winter-tide
Come let us gladden their sad eyes our Queen's
And Lancelot at this night solemnity
With all the kindlier colours of the field
So dame and damsel glittered at the feast
Variously gay for he that tells the tale
Likened them saying as when an hour of cold
Falls on the mountain in midsummer snows
And all the purple slopes of mountain flowers
Pass under white till the warm hour returns
With veer of wind and all are flowers again
So dame and damsel cast the simple white
And glowing in all colours the live grass
Rose-campion bluebell kingcup poppy glanced
About the revels and with mirth so loud
Beyond all use that half-amazed the Queen
And wroth at Tristram and the lawless jousts
Brake up their sports then slowly to her bower
Parted and in her bosom pain was lord
And little Dagonet on the morrow morn
High over all the yellowing Autumn-tide
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall
Then Tristram saying Why skip ye so Sir Fool
Wheeled round on either heel Dagonet replied
Belike for lack of wiser company
Or being fool and seeing too much wit
Makes the world rotten why belike I skip
To know myself the wisest knight of all
Ay fool said Tristram but 'tis eating dry
To dance without a catch a roundelay
To dance to Then he twangled on his harp
And while he twangled little Dagonet stood
Quiet as any water-sodden log
Stayed in the wandering warble of a brook
But when the twangling ended skipt again
And being asked Why skipt ye not Sir Fool
Made answer I had liefer twenty years
Skip to the broken music of my brains
Than any broken music thou canst make
Then Tristram waiting for the quip to come
Good now what music have I broken fool
And little Dagonet skipping Arthur the King's
For when thou playest that air with Queen Isolt
Thou makest broken music with thy bride
Her daintier namesake down in Brittany 
And so thou breakest Arthur music too
Save for that broken music in thy brains
Sir Fool said Tristram I would break thy head
Fool I came too late the heathen wars were o'er
The life had flown we sware but by the shell 
I am but a fool to reason with a fool 
Come thou art crabbed and sour but lean me down
Sir Dagonet one of thy long asses' ears
And harken if my music be not true
'Free love free field we love but while we may
The woods are hushed their music is no more
The leaf is dead the yearning past away
New leaf new life the days of frost are o'er
New life new love to suit the newer day
New loves are sweet as those that went before
Free love free field we love but while we may
Ye might have moved slow-measure to my tune
Not stood stockstill I made it in the woods
And heard it ring as true as tested gold
But Dagonet with one foot poised in his hand
Friend did ye mark that fountain yesterday
Made to run wine but this had run itself
All out like a long life to a sour end 
And them that round it sat with golden cups
To hand the wine to whosoever came 
The twelve small damosels white as Innocence
In honour of poor Innocence the babe
Who left the gems which Innocence the Queen
Lent to the King and Innocence the King
Gave for a prize and one of those white slips
Handed her cup and piped the pretty one
'Drink drink Sir Fool' and thereupon I drank
Spat pish the cup was gold the draught was mud
And Tristram Was it muddier than thy gibes
Is all the laughter gone dead out of thee 
Not marking how the knighthood mock thee fool 
'Fear God honour the King his one true knight 
Sole follower of the vows' for here be they
Who knew thee swine enow before I came
Smuttier than blasted grain but when the King
Had made thee fool thy vanity so shot up
It frighted all free fool from out thy heart
Which left thee less than fool and less than swine
A naked aught yet swine I hold thee still
For I have flung thee pearls and find thee swine
And little Dagonet mincing with his feet
Knight an ye fling those rubies round my neck
In lieu of hers I'll hold thou hast some touch
Of music since I care not for thy pearls
Swine I have wallowed I have washed the world
Is flesh and shadow I have had my day
The dirty nurse Experience in her kind
Hath fouled me an I wallowed then I washed 
I have had my day and my philosophies 
And thank the Lord I am King Arthur fool
Swine say ye swine goats asses rams and geese
Trooped round a Paynim harper once who thrummed
On such a wire as musically as thou
Some such fine song but never a king fool
And Tristram Then were swine goats asses geese
The wiser fools seeing thy Paynim bard
Had such a mastery of his mystery
That he could harp his wife up out of hell
Then Dagonet turning on the ball of his foot
And whither harp'st thou thine down and thyself
Down and two more a helpful harper thou
That harpest downward Dost thou know the star
We call the harp of Arthur up in heaven
And Tristram Ay Sir Fool for when our King
Was victor wellnigh day by day the knights
Glorying in each new glory set his name
High on all hills and in the signs of heaven
And Dagonet answered Ay and when the land
Was freed and the Queen false ye set yourself
To babble about him all to show your wit 
And whether he were King by courtesy
Or King by right and so went harping down
The black king highway got so far and grew
So witty that ye played at ducks and drakes
With Arthur vows on the great lake of fire
Tuwhoo do ye see it do ye see the star
Nay fool said Tristram not in open day
And Dagonet Nay nor will I see it and hear
It makes a silent music up in heaven
And I and Arthur and the angels hear
And then we skip Lo fool he said ye talk
Fool treason is the King thy brother fool
Then little Dagonet clapt his hands and shrilled
Ay ay my brother fool the king of fools
Conceits himself as God that he can make
Figs out of thistles silk from bristles milk
From burning spurge honey from hornet-combs
And men from beasts Long live the king of fools
And down the city Dagonet danced away
But through the slowly-mellowing avenues
And solitary passes of the wood
Rode Tristram toward Lyonnesse and the west
Before him fled the face of Queen Isolt
With ruby-circled neck but evermore
Past as a rustle or twitter in the wood
Made dull his inner keen his outer eye
For all that walked or crept or perched or flew
Anon the face as when a gust hath blown
Unruffling waters re-collect the shape
Of one that in them sees himself returned
But at the slot or fewmets of a deer
Or even a fallen feather vanished again
So on for all that day from lawn to lawn
Through many a league-long bower he rode At length
A lodge of intertwisted beechen-boughs
Furze-crammed and bracken-rooft the which himself
Built for a summer day with Queen Isolt
Against a shower dark in the golden grove
Appearing sent his fancy back to where
She lived a moon in that low lodge with him
Till Mark her lord had past the Cornish King
With six or seven when Tristram was away
And snatched her thence yet dreading worse than shame
Her warrior Tristram spake not any word
But bode his hour devising wretchedness
And now that desert lodge to Tristram lookt
So sweet that halting in he past and sank
Down on a drift of foliage random-blown
But could not rest for musing how to smoothe
And sleek his marriage over to the Queen
Perchance in lone Tintagil far from all
The tonguesters of the court she had not heard
But then what folly had sent him overseas
After she left him lonely here a name
Was it the name of one in Brittany
Isolt the daughter of the King Isolt
Of the white hands they called her the sweet name
Allured him first and then the maid herself
Who served him well with those white hands of hers
And loved him well until himself had thought
He loved her also wedded easily
But left her all as easily and returned
The black-blue Irish hair and Irish eyes
Had drawn him home what marvel then he laid
His brows upon the drifted leaf and dreamed
He seemed to pace the strand of Brittany
Between Isolt of Britain and his bride
And showed them both the ruby-chain and both
Began to struggle for it till his Queen
Graspt it so hard that all her hand was red
Then cried the Breton Look her hand is red
These be no rubies this is frozen blood
And melts within her hand her hand is hot
With ill desires but this I gave thee look
Is all as cool and white as any flower
Followed a rush of eagle wings and then
A whimpering of the spirit of the child
Because the twain had spoiled her carcanet
He dreamed but Arthur with a hundred spears
Rode far till o'er the illimitable reed
And many a glancing plash and sallowy isle
The wide-winged sunset of the misty marsh
Glared on a huge machicolated tower
That stood with open doors whereout was rolled
A roar of riot as from men secure
Amid their marshes ruffians at their ease
Among their harlot-brides an evil song
Lo there said one of Arthur youth for there
High on a grim dead tree before the tower
A goodly brother of the Table Round
Swung by the neck and on the boughs a shield
Showing a shower of blood in a field noir
And therebeside a horn inflamed the knights
At that dishonour done the gilded spur
Till each would clash the shield and blow the horn
But Arthur waved them back Alone he rode
Then at the dry harsh roar of the great horn
That sent the face of all the marsh aloft
An ever upward-rushing storm and cloud
Of shriek and plume the Red Knight heard and all
Even to tipmost lance and topmost helm
In blood-red armour sallying howled to the King
The teeth of Hell flay bare and gnash thee flat 
Lo art thou not that eunuch-hearted King
Who fain had clipt free manhood from the world 
The woman-worshipper Yea God curse and I
Slain was the brother of my paramour
By a knight of thine and I that heard her whine
And snivel being eunuch-hearted too
Sware by the scorpion-worm that twists in hell
And stings itself to everlasting death
To hang whatever knight of thine I fought
And tumbled Art thou King  Look to thy life
He ended Arthur knew the voice the face
Wellnigh was helmet-hidden and the name
Went wandering somewhere darkling in his mind
And Arthur deigned not use of word or sword
But let the drunkard as he stretched from horse
To strike him overbalancing his bulk
Down from the causeway heavily to the swamp
Fall as the crest of some slow-arching wave
Heard in dead night along that table-shore
Drops flat and after the great waters break
Whitening for half a league and thin themselves
Far over sands marbled with moon and cloud
From less and less to nothing thus he fell
Head-heavy then the knights who watched him roared
And shouted and leapt down upon the fallen
There trampled out his face from being known
And sank his head in mire and slimed themselves
Nor heard the King for their own cries but sprang
Through open doors and swording right and left
Men women on their sodden faces hurled
The tables over and the wines and slew
Till all the rafters rang with woman-yells
And all the pavement streamed with massacre
Then echoing yell with yell they fired the tower
Which half that autumn night like the live North
Red-pulsing up through Alioth and Alcor
Made all above it and a hundred meres
About it as the water Moab saw
Came round by the East and out beyond them flushed
The long low dune and lazy-plunging sea
So all the ways were safe from shore to shore
But in the heart of Arthur pain was lord
Then out of Tristram waking the red dream
Fled with a shout and that low lodge returned
Mid-forest and the wind among the boughs
He whistled his good warhorse left to graze
Among the forest greens vaulted upon him
And rode beneath an ever-showering leaf
Till one lone woman weeping near a cross
Stayed him Why weep ye Lord she said my man
Hath left me or is dead whereon he thought 
What if she hate me now I would not this
What if she love me still I would not that
I know not what I would but said to her
Yet weep not thou lest if thy mate return
He find thy favour changed and love thee not 
Then pressing day by day through Lyonnesse
Last in a roky hollow belling heard
The hounds of Mark and felt the goodly hounds
Yelp at his heart but turning past and gained
Tintagil half in sea and high on land
A low sea-sunset glorying round her hair
And glossy-throated grace Isolt the Queen
And when she heard the feet of Tristram grind
The spiring stone that scaled about her tower
Flushed started met him at the doors and there
Belted his body with her white embrace
Crying aloud Not Mark not Mark my soul
The footstep fluttered me at first not he
Catlike through his own castle steals my Mark
But warrior-wise thou stridest through his halls
Who hates thee as I him even to the death
My soul I felt my hatred for my Mark
Quicken within me and knew that thou wert nigh
To whom Sir Tristram smiling I am here
Let be thy Mark seeing he is not thine
And drawing somewhat backward she replied
Can he be wronged who is not even his own
But save for dread of thee had beaten me
Scratched bitten blinded marred me somehow Mark
What rights are his that dare not strike for them
Not lift a hand not though he found me thus
But harken have ye met him hence he went
Today for three days' hunting as he said 
And so returns belike within an hour
Mark way my soul but eat not thou with Mark
Because he hates thee even more than fears
Nor drink and when thou passest any wood
Close vizor lest an arrow from the bush
Should leave me all alone with Mark and hell
My God the measure of my hate for Mark
Is as the measure of my love for thee
So plucked one way by hate and one by love
Drained of her force again she sat and spake
To Tristram as he knelt before her saying
O hunter and O blower of the horn
Harper and thou hast been a rover too
For ere I mated with my shambling king
Ye twain had fallen out about the bride
Of one his name is out of me the prize
If prize she were what marvel she could see 
Thine friend and ever since my craven seeks
To wreck thee villainously but O Sir Knight
What dame or damsel have ye kneeled to last
And Tristram Last to my Queen Paramount
Here now to my Queen Paramount of love
And loveliness ay lovelier than when first
Her light feet fell on our rough Lyonnesse
Flatter me not for hath not our great Queen
My dole of beauty trebled and he said
Her beauty is her beauty and thine thine
And thine is more to me soft gracious kind 
Save when thy Mark is kindled on thy lips
Most gracious but she haughty even to him
Lancelot for I have seen him wan enow
To make one doubt if ever the great Queen
Ah then false hunter and false harper thou
Who brakest through the scruple of my bond
Calling me thy white hind and saying to me
That Guinevere had sinned against the highest
And I misyoked with such a want of man 
That I could hardly sin against the lowest
He answered O my soul be comforted
If this be sweet to sin in leading-strings
If here be comfort and if ours be sin
Crowned warrant had we for the crowning sin
That made us happy but how ye greet me fear
And fault and doubt no word of that fond tale 
Thy deep heart-yearnings thy sweet memories
Of Tristram in that year he was away
And saddening on the sudden spake Isolt
I had forgotten all in my strong joy
To see thee yearnings ay for hour by hour
Here in the never-ended afternoon
O sweeter than all memories of thee
Deeper than any yearnings after thee
Seemed those far-rolling westward-smiling seas
Watched from this tower Isolt of Britain dashed
Before Isolt of Brittany on the strand
Would that have chilled her bride-kiss Wedded her
Fought in her father battles wounded there
The King was all fulfilled with gratefulness
And she my namesake of the hands that healed
Thy hurt and heart with unguent and caress 
Well can I wish her any huger wrong
Than having known thee her too hast thou left
To pine and waste in those sweet memories
O were I not my Mark by whom all men
Are noble I should hate thee more than love
And Tristram fondling her light hands replied
Grace Queen for being loved she loved me well
Did I love her the name at least I loved
Isolt I fought his battles for Isolt
The night was dark the true star set Isolt
The name was ruler of the dark Isolt
Care not for her patient and prayerful meek
Pale-blooded she will yield herself to God
And Isolt answered Yea and why not I
Mine is the larger need who am not meek
Pale-blooded prayerful Let me tell thee now
Here one black mute midsummer night I sat
Lonely but musing on thee wondering where
Murmuring a light song I had heard thee sing
And once or twice I spake thy name aloud
Then flashed a levin-brand and near me stood
In fuming sulphur blue and green a fiend 
Mark way to steal behind one in the dark 
For there was Mark 'He has wedded her' he said
Not said but hissed it then this crown of towers
So shook to such a roar of all the sky
That here in utter dark I swooned away
And woke again in utter dark and cried
'I will flee hence and give myself to God' 
And thou wert lying in thy new leman arms
Then Tristram ever dallying with her hand
May God be with thee sweet when old and gray
And past desire a saying that angered her
'May God be with thee sweet when thou art old
And sweet no more to me' I need Him now
For when had Lancelot uttered aught so gross
Even to the swineherd malkin in the mast
The greater man the greater courtesy
Far other was the Tristram Arthur knight
But thou through ever harrying thy wild beasts 
Save that to touch a harp tilt with a lance
Becomes thee well art grown wild beast thyself
How darest thou if lover push me even
In fancy from thy side and set me far
In the gray distance half a life away
Her to be loved no more Unsay it unswear
Flatter me rather seeing me so weak
Broken with Mark and hate and solitude
Thy marriage and mine own that I should suck
Lies like sweet wines lie to me I believe
Will ye not lie not swear as there ye kneel
And solemnly as when ye sware to him
The man of men our King My God the power
Was once in vows when men believed the King
They lied not then who sware and through their vows
The King prevailing made his realm I say
Swear to me thou wilt love me even when old
Gray-haired and past desire and in despair
Then Tristram pacing moodily up and down
Vows did you keep the vow you made to Mark
More than I mine Lied say ye Nay but learnt
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself 
My knighthood taught me this ay being snapt 
We run more counter to the soul thereof
Than had we never sworn I swear no more
I swore to the great King and am forsworn
For once even to the height I honoured him
'Man is he man at all' methought when first
I rode from our rough Lyonnesse and beheld
That victor of the Pagan throned in hall 
His hair a sun that rayed from off a brow
Like hillsnow high in heaven the steel-blue eyes
The golden beard that clothed his lips with light 
Moreover that weird legend of his birth
With Merlin mystic babble about his end
Amazed me then his foot was on a stool
Shaped as a dragon he seemed to me no man
But Michael trampling Satan so I sware
Being amazed but this went by  The vows
O ay the wholesome madness of an hour 
They served their use their time for every knight
Believed himself a greater than himself
And every follower eyed him as a God
Till he being lifted up beyond himself
Did mightier deeds than elsewise he had done
And so the realm was made but then their vows 
First mainly through that sullying of our Queen 
Began to gall the knighthood asking whence
Had Arthur right to bind them to himself
Dropt down from heaven washed up from out the deep
They failed to trace him through the flesh and blood
Of our old kings whence then a doubtful lord
To bind them by inviolable vows
Which flesh and blood perforce would violate
For feel this arm of mine the tide within
Red with free chase and heather-scented air
Pulsing full man can Arthur make me pure
As any maiden child lock up my tongue
From uttering freely what I freely hear
Bind me to one The wide world laughs at it
And worldling of the world am I and know
The ptarmigan that whitens ere his hour
Woos his own end we are not angels here
Nor shall be vows I am woodman of the woods
And hear the garnet-headed yaffingale
Mock them my soul we love but while we may
And therefore is my love so large for thee
Seeing it is not bounded save by love
Here ending he moved toward her and she said
Good an I turned away my love for thee
To some one thrice as courteous as thyself 
For courtesy wins woman all as well
As valour may but he that closes both
Is perfect he is Lancelot taller indeed
Rosier and comelier thou but say I loved
This knightliest of all knights and cast thee back
Thine own small saw 'We love but while we may
Mindful of what he brought to adorn her with
The jewels had let one finger lightly touch
The warm white apple of her throat replied
Press this a little closer sweet until 
Come I am hungered and half-angered meat
Wine wine and I will love thee to the death
And out beyond into the dream to come
So then when both were brought to full accord
She rose and set before him all he willed
And after these had comforted the blood
With meats and wines and satiated their hearts 
Now talking of their woodland paradise
The deer the dews the fern the founts the lawns
Now mocking at the much ungainliness
And craven shifts and long crane legs of Mark 
Then Tristram laughing caught the harp and sang
Ay ay O ay the winds that bend the brier
A star in heaven a star within the mere
Ay ay O ay a star was my desire
And one was far apart and one was near
Ay ay O ay the winds that bow the grass
And one was water and one star was fire
And one will ever shine and one will pass
Ay ay O ay the winds that move the mere
Then in the light last glimmer Tristram showed
And swung the ruby carcanet She cried
The collar of some Order which our King
Hath newly founded all for thee my soul
For thee to yield thee grace beyond thy peers
Not so my Queen he said but the red fruit
Grown on a magic oak-tree in mid-heaven
And won by Tristram as a tourney-prize
And hither brought by Tristram for his last
Love-offering and peace-offering unto thee
He spoke he turned then flinging round her neck
Claspt it and cried Thine Order O my Queen
But while he bowed to kiss the jewelled throat
Out of the dark just as the lips had touched
Behind him rose a shadow and a shriek 
Mark way said Mark and clove him through the brain
That night came Arthur home and while he climbed
All in a death-dumb autumn-dripping gloom
The stairway to the hall and looked and saw
The great Queen bower was dark about his feet
A voice clung sobbing till he questioned it
What art thou and the voice about his feet
Sent up an answer sobbing I am thy fool
And I shall never make thee smile again
Queen Guinevere had fled the court and sat
There in the holy house at Almesbury
Weeping none with her save a little maid
A novice one low light betwixt them burned
Blurred by the creeping mist for all abroad
Beneath a moon unseen albeit at full
The white mist like a face-cloth to the face
Clung to the dead earth and the land was still
For hither had she fled her cause of flight
Sir Modred he that like a subtle beast
Lay couchant with his eyes upon the throne
Ready to spring waiting a chance for this
He chilled the popular praises of the King
With silent smiles of slow disparagement
And tampered with the Lords of the White Horse
Heathen the brood by Hengist left and sought
To make disruption in the Table Round
Of Arthur and to splinter it into feuds
Serving his traitorous end and all his aims
Were sharpened by strong hate for Lancelot
For thus it chanced one morn when all the court
Green-suited but with plumes that mocked the may
Had been their wont a-maying and returned
That Modred still in green all ear and eye
Climbed to the high top of the garden-wall
To spy some secret scandal if he might
And saw the Queen who sat betwixt her best
Enid and lissome Vivien of her court
The wiliest and the worst and more than this
He saw not for Sir Lancelot passing by
Spied where he couched and as the gardener hand
Picks from the colewort a green caterpillar
So from the high wall and the flowering grove
Of grasses Lancelot plucked him by the heel
And cast him as a worm upon the way
But when he knew the Prince though marred with dust
He reverencing king blood in a bad man
Made such excuses as he might and these
Full knightly without scorn for in those days
No knight of Arthur noblest dealt in scorn
But if a man were halt or hunched in him
By those whom God had made full-limbed and tall
Scorn was allowed as part of his defect
And he was answered softly by the King
And all his Table So Sir Lancelot holp
To raise the Prince who rising twice or thrice
Full sharply smote his knees and smiled and went
But ever after the small violence done
Rankled in him and ruffled all his heart
As the sharp wind that ruffles all day long
A little bitter pool about a stone
This matter to the Queen at first she laughed
Lightly to think of Modred dusty fall
Then shuddered as the village wife who cries
I shudder some one steps across my grave
Then laughed again but faintlier for indeed
She half-foresaw that he the subtle beast
Would track her guilt until he found and hers
Would be for evermore a name of scorn
Henceforward rarely could she front in hall
Or elsewhere Modred narrow foxy face
Heart-hiding smile and gray persistent eye
Henceforward too the Powers that tend the soul
To help it from the death that cannot die
And save it even in extremes began
To vex and plague her Many a time for hours
Beside the placid breathings of the King
In the dead night grim faces came and went
Before her or a vague spiritual fear 
Like to some doubtful noise of creaking doors
Heard by the watcher in a haunted house
That keeps the rust of murder on the walls 
Held her awake or if she slept she dreamed
An awful dream for then she seemed to stand
On some vast plain before a setting sun
And from the sun there swiftly made at her
A ghastly something and its shadow flew
Before it till it touched her and she turned 
When lo her own that broadening from her feet
And blackening swallowed all the land and in it
Far cities burnt and with a cry she woke
And all this trouble did not pass but grew
Till even the clear face of the guileless King
And trustful courtesies of household life
Became her bane and at the last she said
O Lancelot get thee hence to thine own land
For if thou tarry we shall meet again
And if we meet again some evil chance
Will make the smouldering scandal break and blaze
Before the people and our lord the King
And Lancelot ever promised but remained
And still they met and met Again she said
O Lancelot if thou love me get thee hence
And then they were agreed upon a night
When the good King should not be there to meet
And part for ever Vivien lurking heard
She told Sir Modred Passion-pale they met
And greeted Hands in hands and eye to eye
Low on the border of her couch they sat
Stammering and staring It was their last hour
A madness of farewells And Modred brought
His creatures to the basement of the tower
For testimony and crying with full voice
Traitor come out ye are trapt at last aroused
Lancelot who rushing outward lionlike
Leapt on him and hurled him headlong and he fell
Stunned and his creatures took and bare him off
And all was still then she The end is come
And I am shamed for ever and he said
Mine be the shame mine was the sin but rise
And fly to my strong castle overseas
There will I hide thee till my life shall end
There hold thee with my life against the world
She answered Lancelot wilt thou hold me so
Nay friend for we have taken our farewells
Would God that thou couldst hide me from myself
Mine is the shame for I was wife and thou
Unwedded yet rise now and let us fly
For I will draw me into sanctuary
And bide my doom So Lancelot got her horse
Set her thereon and mounted on his own
And then they rode to the divided way
There kissed and parted weeping for he past
Love-loyal to the least wish of the Queen
Back to his land but she to Almesbury
Fled all night long by glimmering waste and weald
And heard the Spirits of the waste and weald
Moan as she fled or thought she heard them moan
And in herself she moaned Too late too late
Till in the cold wind that foreruns the morn
A blot in heaven the Raven flying high
Croaked and she thought He spies a field of death
For now the Heathen of the Northern Sea
Lured by the crimes and frailties of the court
Begin to slay the folk and spoil the land
And when she came to Almesbury she spake
There to the nuns and said Mine enemies
Pursue me but O peaceful Sisterhood
Receive and yield me sanctuary nor ask
Her name to whom ye yield it till her time
To tell you and her beauty grace and power
Wrought as a charm upon them and they spared
For many a week unknown among the nuns
Nor with them mixed nor told her name nor sought
Wrapt in her grief for housel or for shrift
But communed only with the little maid
Who pleased her with a babbling heedlessness
Which often lured her from herself but now
This night a rumour wildly blown about
Came that Sir Modred had usurped the realm
And leagued him with the heathen while the King
Was waging war on Lancelot then she thought
With what a hate the people and the King
Must hate me and bowed down upon her hands
Silent until the little maid who brooked
No silence brake it uttering Late so late
What hour I wonder now and when she drew
No answer by and by began to hum
An air the nuns had taught her Late so late
Which when she heard the Queen looked up and said
O maiden if indeed ye list to sing
Sing and unbind my heart that I may weep
Whereat full willingly sang the little maid
Late late so late and dark the night and chill
Late late so late but we can enter still
Too late too late ye cannot enter now
No light had we for that we do repent
And learning this the bridegroom will relent
Too late too late ye cannot enter now
No light so late and dark and chill the night
O let us in that we may find the light
Too late too late ye cannot enter now
Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet
O let us in though late to kiss his feet
No no too late ye cannot enter now
So sang the novice while full passionately
Her head upon her hands remembering
Her thought when first she came wept the sad Queen
Then said the little novice prattling to her
O pray you noble lady weep no more
But let my words the words of one so small
Who knowing nothing knows but to obey
And if I do not there is penance given 
Comfort your sorrows for they do not flow
From evil done right sure am I of that
Who see your tender grace and stateliness
But weigh your sorrows with our lord the King's
And weighing find them less for gone is he
To wage grim war against Sir Lancelot there
Round that strong castle where he holds the Queen
And Modred whom he left in charge of all
The traitor Ah sweet lady the King grief
For his own self and his own Queen and realm
Must needs be thrice as great as any of ours
For me I thank the saints I am not great
For if there ever come a grief to me
I cry my cry in silence and have done
None knows it and my tears have brought me good
But even were the griefs of little ones
As great as those of great ones yet this grief
Is added to the griefs the great must bear
That howsoever much they may desire
Silence they cannot weep behind a cloud
As even here they talk at Almesbury
About the good King and his wicked Queen
And were I such a King with such a Queen
Well might I wish to veil her wickedness
But were I such a King it could not be
Then to her own sad heart muttered the Queen
Will the child kill me with her innocent talk
But openly she answered Must not I
If this false traitor have displaced his lord
Grieve with the common grief of all the realm
Yea said the maid this is all woman grief
That she is woman whose disloyal life
Hath wrought confusion in the Table Round
Which good King Arthur founded years ago
With signs and miracles and wonders there
At Camelot ere the coming of the Queen
Then thought the Queen within herself again
Will the child kill me with her foolish prate
But openly she spake and said to her
O little maid shut in by nunnery walls
What canst thou know of Kings and Tables Round
Or what of signs and wonders but the signs
And simple miracles of thy nunnery
To whom the little novice garrulously
Yea but I know the land was full of signs
And wonders ere the coming of the Queen
So said my father and himself was knight
Of the great Table at the founding of it
And rode thereto from Lyonnesse and he said
That as he rode an hour or maybe twain
After the sunset down the coast he heard
Strange music and he paused and turning there
All down the lonely coast of Lyonnesse
Each with a beacon-star upon his head
And with a wild sea-light about his feet
He saw them headland after headland flame
Far on into the rich heart of the west
And in the light the white mermaiden swam
And strong man-breasted things stood from the sea
And sent a deep sea-voice through all the land
To which the little elves of chasm and cleft
Made answer sounding like a distant horn
So said my father yea and furthermore
Next morning while he past the dim-lit woods
Himself beheld three spirits mad with joy
Come dashing down on a tall wayside flower
That shook beneath them as the thistle shakes
When three gray linnets wrangle for the seed
And still at evenings on before his horse
The flickering fairy-circle wheeled and broke
Flying and linked again and wheeled and broke
Flying for all the land was full of life
And when at last he came to Camelot
A wreath of airy dancers hand-in-hand
Swung round the lighted lantern of the hall
And in the hall itself was such a feast
As never man had dreamed for every knight
Had whatsoever meat he longed for served
By hands unseen and even as he said
Down in the cellars merry bloated things
Shouldered the spigot straddling on the butts
While the wine ran so glad were spirits and men
Before the coming of the sinful Queen
Then spake the Queen and somewhat bitterly
Were they so glad ill prophets were they all
Spirits and men could none of them foresee
Not even thy wise father with his signs
And wonders what has fallen upon the realm
To whom the novice garrulously again
Yea one a bard of whom my father said
Full many a noble war-song had he sung
Even in the presence of an enemy fleet
Between the steep cliff and the coming wave
And many a mystic lay of life and death
Had chanted on the smoky mountain-tops
When round him bent the spirits of the hills
With all their dewy hair blown back like flame
So said my father and that night the bard
Sang Arthur glorious wars and sang the King
As wellnigh more than man and railed at those
Who called him the false son of Gorlois
For there was no man knew from whence he came
But after tempest when the long wave broke
All down the thundering shores of Bude and Bos
There came a day as still as heaven and then
They found a naked child upon the sands
Of dark Tintagil by the Cornish sea
And that was Arthur and they fostered him
Till he by miracle was approven King
And that his grave should be a mystery
From all men like his birth and could he find
A woman in her womanhood as great
As he was in his manhood then he sang
The twain together well might change the world
But even in the middle of his song
He faltered and his hand fell from the harp
And pale he turned and reeled and would have fallen
But that they stayed him up nor would he tell
His vision but what doubt that he foresaw
This evil work of Lancelot and the Queen
Then thought the Queen Lo they have set her on
Our simple-seeming Abbess and her nuns
To play upon me and bowed her head nor spake
Whereat the novice crying with clasped hands
Shame on her own garrulity garrulously
Said the good nuns would check her gadding tongue
Full often and sweet lady if I seem
To vex an ear too sad to listen to me
Unmannerly with prattling and the tales
Which my good father told me check me too
Nor let me shame my father memory one
Of noblest manners though himself would say
Sir Lancelot had the noblest and he died
Killed in a tilt come next five summers back
And left me but of others who remain
And of the two first-famed for courtesy 
And pray you check me if I ask amiss 
But pray you which had noblest while you moved
Among them Lancelot or our lord the King
Then the pale Queen looked up and answered her
Sir Lancelot as became a noble knight
Was gracious to all ladies and the same
In open battle or the tilting-field
Forbore his own advantage and the King
In open battle or the tilting-field
Forbore his own advantage and these two
Were the most nobly-mannered men of all
For manners are not idle but the fruit
Of loyal nature and of noble mind
Yea said the maid be manners such fair fruit
Then Lancelot needs must be a thousand-fold
Less noble being as all rumour runs
The most disloyal friend in all the world
To which a mournful answer made the Queen
O closed about by narrowing nunnery-walls
What knowest thou of the world and all its lights
And shadows all the wealth and all the woe
If ever Lancelot that most noble knight
Were for one hour less noble than himself
Pray for him that he scape the doom of fire
And weep for her that drew him to his doom
Yea said the little novice I pray for both
But I should all as soon believe that his
Sir Lancelot were as noble as the King's
As I could think sweet lady yours would be
Such as they are were you the sinful Queen
So she like many another babbler hurt
Whom she would soothe and harmed where she would heal
For here a sudden flush of wrathful heat
Fired all the pale face of the Queen who cried
Such as thou art be never maiden more
For ever thou their tool set on to plague
And play upon and harry me petty spy
And traitress When that storm of anger brake
From Guinevere aghast the maiden rose
White as her veil and stood before the Queen
As tremulously as foam upon the beach
Stands in a wind ready to break and fly
And when the Queen had added Get thee hence
Fled frighted Then that other left alone
Sighed and began to gather heart again
Saying in herself The simple fearful child
Meant nothing but my own too-fearful guilt
Simpler than any child betrays itself
But help me heaven for surely I repent
For what is true repentance but in thought 
Not even in inmost thought to think again
The sins that made the past so pleasant to us
And I have sworn never to see him more
Her memory from old habit of the mind
Went slipping back upon the golden days
In which she saw him first when Lancelot came
Reputed the best knight and goodliest man
Ambassador to lead her to his lord
Arthur and led her forth and far ahead
Of his and her retinue moving they
Rapt in sweet talk or lively all on love
And sport and tilts and pleasure for the time
Was maytime and as yet no sin was dreamed
Rode under groves that looked a paradise
Of blossom over sheets of hyacinth
That seemed the heavens upbreaking through the earth
And on from hill to hill and every day
Beheld at noon in some delicious dale
The silk pavilions of King Arthur raised
For brief repast or afternoon repose
By couriers gone before and on again
Till yet once more ere set of sun they saw
The Dragon of the great Pendragonship
That crowned the state pavilion of the King
Blaze by the rushing brook or silent well
But when the Queen immersed in such a trance
And moving through the past unconsciously
Came to that point where first she saw the King
Ride toward her from the city sighed to find
Her journey done glanced at him thought him cold
High self-contained and passionless not like him
Not like my Lancelot while she brooded thus
And grew half-guilty in her thoughts again
There rode an armed warrior to the doors
A murmuring whisper through the nunnery ran
Then on a sudden a cry The King She sat
Stiff-stricken listening but when armed feet
Through the long gallery from the outer doors
Rang coming prone from off her seat she fell
And grovelled with her face against the floor
There with her milkwhite arms and shadowy hair
She made her face a darkness from the King
And in the darkness heard his armed feet
Pause by her then came silence then a voice
Monotonous and hollow like a Ghost's
Denouncing judgment but though changed the King's
Liest thou here so low the child of one
I honoured happy dead before thy shame
Well is it that no child is born of thee
The children born of thee are sword and fire
Red ruin and the breaking up of laws
The craft of kindred and the Godless hosts
Of heathen swarming o'er the Northern Sea
Whom I while yet Sir Lancelot my right arm
The mightiest of my knights abode with me
Have everywhere about this land of Christ
In twelve great battles ruining overthrown
And knowest thou now from whence I come from him
From waging bitter war with him and he
That did not shun to smite me in worse way
Had yet that grace of courtesy in him left
He spared to lift his hand against the King
Who made him knight but many a knight was slain
And many more and all his kith and kin
Clave to him and abode in his own land
And many more when Modred raised revolt
Forgetful of their troth and fealty clave
To Modred and a remnant stays with me
And of this remnant will I leave a part
True men who love me still for whom I live
To guard thee in the wild hour coming on
Lest but a hair of this low head be harmed
Fear not thou shalt be guarded till my death
Howbeit I know if ancient prophecies
Have erred not that I march to meet my doom
Thou hast not made my life so sweet to me
That I the King should greatly care to live
For thou hast spoilt the purpose of my life
Bear with me for the last time while I show
Even for thy sake the sin which thou hast sinned
For when the Roman left us and their law
Relaxed its hold upon us and the ways
Were filled with rapine here and there a deed
Of prowess done redressed a random wrong
But I was first of all the kings who drew
The knighthood-errant of this realm and all
The realms together under me their Head
In that fair Order of my Table Round
A glorious company the flower of men
To serve as model for the mighty world
And be the fair beginning of a time
I made them lay their hands in mine and swear
To reverence the King as if he were
Their conscience and their conscience as their King
To break the heathen and uphold the Christ
To ride abroad redressing human wrongs
To speak no slander no nor listen to it
To honour his own word as if his God's
To lead sweet lives in purest chastity
To love one maiden only cleave to her
And worship her by years of noble deeds
Until they won her for indeed I knew
Of no more subtle master under heaven
Than is the maiden passion for a maid
Not only to keep down the base in man
But teach high thought and amiable words
And courtliness and the desire of fame
And love of truth and all that makes a man
And all this throve before I wedded thee
Believing 'lo mine helpmate one to feel
My purpose and rejoicing in my joy
Then came thy shameful sin with Lancelot
Then came the sin of Tristram and Isolt
Then others following these my mightiest knights
And drawing foul ensample from fair names
Sinned also till the loathsome opposite
Of all my heart had destined did obtain
And all through thee so that this life of mine
I guard as God high gift from scathe and wrong
Not greatly care to lose but rather think
How sad it were for Arthur should he live
To sit once more within his lonely hall
And miss the wonted number of my knights
And miss to hear high talk of noble deeds
As in the golden days before thy sin
For which of us who might be left could speak
Of the pure heart nor seem to glance at thee
And in thy bowers of Camelot or of Usk
Thy shadow still would glide from room to room
And I should evermore be vext with thee
In hanging robe or vacant ornament
Or ghostly footfall echoing on the stair
For think not though thou wouldst not love thy lord
Thy lord hast wholly lost his love for thee
I am not made of so slight elements
Yet must I leave thee woman to thy shame
I hold that man the worst of public foes
Who either for his own or children sake
To save his blood from scandal lets the wife
Whom he knows false abide and rule the house
For being through his cowardice allowed
Her station taken everywhere for pure
She like a new disease unknown to men
Creeps no precaution used among the crowd
Makes wicked lightnings of her eyes and saps
The fealty of our friends and stirs the pulse
With devil leaps and poisons half the young
Worst of the worst were that man he that reigns
Better the King waste hearth and aching heart
Than thou reseated in thy place of light
The mockery of my people and their bane
He paused and in the pause she crept an inch
Nearer and laid her hands about his feet
Far off a solitary trumpet blew
Then waiting by the doors the warhorse neighed
At a friend voice and he spake again
Yet think not that I come to urge thy crimes
I did not come to curse thee Guinevere
I whose vast pity almost makes me die
To see thee laying there thy golden head
My pride in happier summers at my feet
The wrath which forced my thoughts on that fierce law
The doom of treason and the flaming death
When first I learnt thee hidden here is past
The pang which while I weighed thy heart with one
Too wholly true to dream untruth in thee
Made my tears burn is also past in part
And all is past the sin is sinned and I
Lo I forgive thee as Eternal God
Forgives do thou for thine own soul the rest
But how to take last leave of all I loved
O golden hair with which I used to play
Not knowing O imperial-moulded form
And beauty such as never woman wore
Until it became a kingdom curse with thee 
I cannot touch thy lips they are not mine
But Lancelot nay they never were the King's
I cannot take thy hand that too is flesh
And in the flesh thou hast sinned and mine own flesh
Here looking down on thine polluted cries
'I loathe thee' yet not less O Guinevere
For I was ever virgin save for thee
My love through flesh hath wrought into my life
So far that my doom is I love thee still
Let no man dream but that I love thee still
Perchance and so thou purify thy soul
And so thou lean on our fair father Christ
Hereafter in that world where all are pure
We two may meet before high God and thou
Wilt spring to me and claim me thine and know
I am thine husband not a smaller soul
Nor Lancelot nor another Leave me that
I charge thee my last hope Now must I hence
Through the thick night I hear the trumpet blow
They summon me their King to lead mine hosts
Far down to that great battle in the west
Where I must strike against the man they call
My sister son no kin of mine who leagues
With Lords of the White Horse heathen and knights
Traitors and strike him dead and meet myself
Death or I know not what mysterious doom
And thou remaining here wilt learn the event
But hither shall I never come again
Never lie by thy side see thee no more 
She felt the King breath wander o'er her neck
And in the darkness o'er her fallen head
Perceived the waving of his hands that blest
Then listening till those armed steps were gone
Rose the pale Queen and in her anguish found
The casement peradventure so she thought
If I might see his face and not be seen
And lo he sat on horseback at the door
And near him the sad nuns with each a light
Stood and he gave them charge about the Queen
To guard and foster her for evermore
And while he spake to these his helm was lowered
To which for crest the golden dragon clung
Of Britain so she did not see the face
Which then was as an angel but she saw
Wet with the mists and smitten by the lights
The Dragon of the great Pendragonship
Blaze making all the night a steam of fire
And even then he turned and more and more
The moony vapour rolling round the King
Who seemed the phantom of a Giant in it
Enwound him fold by fold and made him gray
And grayer till himself became as mist
Before her moving ghostlike to his doom
Then she stretched out her arms and cried aloud
Oh Arthur there her voice brake suddenly
Then as a stream that spouting from a cliff
Fails in mid air but gathering at the base
Re-makes itself and flashes down the vale 
Gone through my sin to slay and to be slain
And he forgave me and I could not speak
Farewell I should have answered his farewell
His mercy choked me Gone my lord the King
My own true lord how dare I call him mine
The shadow of another cleaves to me
And makes me one pollution he the King
Called me polluted shall I kill myself
What help in that I cannot kill my sin
If soul be soul nor can I kill my shame
No nor by living can I live it down
The days will grow to weeks the weeks to months
The months will add themselves and make the years
The years will roll into the centuries
And mine will ever be a name of scorn
I must not dwell on that defeat of fame
Let the world be that is but of the world
What else what hope I think there was a hope
Except he mocked me when he spake of hope
His hope he called it but he never mocks
For mockery is the fume of little hearts
And blessed be the King who hath forgiven
My wickedness to him and left me hope
That in mine own heart I can live down sin
And be his mate hereafter in the heavens
Before high God Ah great and gentle lord
Who wast as is the conscience of a saint
Among his warring senses to thy knights 
To whom my false voluptuous pride that took
Full easily all impressions from below
Would not look up or half-despised the height
To which I would not or I could not climb 
I thought I could not breathe in that fine air
That pure severity of perfect light 
I yearned for warmth and colour which I found
In Lancelot now I see thee what thou art
Thou art the highest and most human too
Not Lancelot nor another Is there none
Will tell the King I love him though so late
Now ere he goes to the great Battle none
Myself must tell him in that purer life
But now it were too daring Ah my God
What might I not have made of thy fair world
Had I but loved thy highest creature here
It was my duty to have loved the highest
It surely was my profit had I known
It would have been my pleasure had I seen
We needs must love the highest when we see it
Grasped made her vail her eyes she looked and saw
The novice weeping suppliant and said to her
Yea little maid for am I not forgiven
Then glancing up beheld the holy nuns
All round her weeping and her heart was loosed
Within her and she wept with these and said
Ye know me then that wicked one who broke
The vast design and purpose of the King
O shut me round with narrowing nunnery-walls
Meek maidens from the voices crying 'shame
I must not scorn myself he loves me still
Let no one dream but that he loves me still
So let me if you do not shudder at me
Nor shun to call me sister dwell with you
Wear black and white and be a nun like you
Fast with your fasts not feasting with your feasts
Grieve with your griefs not grieving at your joys
But not rejoicing mingle with your rites
Pray and be prayed for lie before your shrines
Do each low office of your holy house
Walk your dim cloister and distribute dole
To poor sick people richer in His eyes
Who ransomed us and haler too than I
And treat their loathsome hurts and heal mine own
And so wear out in almsdeed and in prayer
The sombre close of that voluptuous day
Which wrought the ruin of my lord the King
She said they took her to themselves and she
Still hoping fearing is it yet too late
Dwelt with them till in time their Abbess died
Then she for her good deeds and her pure life
And for the power of ministration in her
And likewise for the high rank she had borne
Was chosen Abbess there an Abbess lived
For three brief years and there an Abbess past
To where beyond these voices there is peace
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere
First made and latest left of all the knights
Told when the man was no more than a voice
In the white winter of his age to those
With whom he dwelt new faces other minds
For on their march to westward Bedivere
Who slowly paced among the slumbering host
Heard in his tent the moanings of the King
I found Him in the shining of the stars
I marked Him in the flowering of His fields
But in His ways with men I find Him not
I waged His wars and now I pass and die
O me for why is all around us here
As if some lesser god had made the world
But had not force to shape it as he would
Till the High God behold it from beyond
And enter it and make it beautiful
Or else as if the world were wholly fair
But that these eyes of men are dense and dim
And have not power to see it as it is
Perchance because we see not to the close 
For I being simple thought to work His will
And have but stricken with the sword in vain
And all whereon I leaned in wife and friend
Is traitor to my peace and all my realm
Reels back into the beast and is no more
My God thou hast forgotten me in my death
Nay God my Christ I pass but shall not die
Then ere that last weird battle in the west
There came on Arthur sleeping Gawain killed
In Lancelot war the ghost of Gawain blown
Along a wandering wind and past his ear
Went shrilling Hollow hollow all delight
Hail King tomorrow thou shalt pass away
Farewell there is an isle of rest for thee
And I am blown along a wandering wind
And hollow hollow hollow all delight
And fainter onward like wild birds that change
Their season in the night and wail their way
From cloud to cloud down the long wind the dream
Shrilled but in going mingled with dim cries
Far in the moonlit haze among the hills
As of some lonely city sacked by night
When all is lost and wife and child with wail
Pass to new lords and Arthur woke and called
Who spake A dream O light upon the wind
Thine Gawain was the voice are these dim cries
Thine or doth all that haunts the waste and wild
Mourn knowing it will go along with me
This heard the bold Sir Bedivere and spake
O me my King let pass whatever will
Elves and the harmless glamour of the field
But in their stead thy name and glory cling
To all high places like a golden cloud
For ever but as yet thou shalt not pass
Light was Gawain in life and light in death
Is Gawain for the ghost is as the man
And care not thou for dreams from him but rise 
I hear the steps of Modred in the west
And with him many of thy people and knights
Once thine whom thou hast loved but grosser grown
Than heathen spitting at their vows and thee
Right well in heart they know thee for the King
Arise go forth and conquer as of old
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere
Far other is this battle in the west
Whereto we move than when we strove in youth
And brake the petty kings and fought with Rome
Or thrust the heathen from the Roman wall
And shook him through the north Ill doom is mine
To war against my people and my knights
The king who fights his people fights himself
And they my knights who loved me once the stroke
That strikes them dead is as my death to me
Yet let us hence and find or feel a way
Through this blind haze which ever since I saw
One lying in the dust at Almesbury
Hath folded in the passes of the world
Then rose the King and moved his host by night
And ever pushed Sir Modred league by league
Back to the sunset bound of Lyonnesse 
A land of old upheaven from the abyss
By fire to sink into the abyss again
Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt
And the long mountains ended in a coast
Of ever-shifting sand and far away
The phantom circle of a moaning sea
There the pursuer could pursue no more
And he that fled no further fly the King
And there that day when the great light of heaven
Burned at his lowest in the rolling year
On the waste sand by the waste sea they closed
Nor ever yet had Arthur fought a fight
Like this last dim weird battle of the west
A deathwhite mist slept over sand and sea
Whereof the chill to him who breathed it drew
Down with his blood till all his heart was cold
With formless fear and even on Arthur fell
Confusion since he saw not whom he fought
For friend and foe were shadows in the mist
And friend slew friend not knowing whom he slew
And some had visions out of golden youth
And some beheld the faces of old ghosts
Look in upon the battle and in the mist
Was many a noble deed many a base
And chance and craft and strength in single fights
And ever and anon with host to host
Shocks and the splintering spear the hard mail hewn
Shield-breakings and the clash of brands the crash
Of battleaxes on shattered helms and shrieks
After the Christ of those who falling down
Looked up for heaven and only saw the mist
And shouts of heathen and the traitor knights
Oaths insults filth and monstrous blasphemies
Sweat writhings anguish labouring of the lungs
In that close mist and cryings for the light
Moans of the dying and voices of the dead
Last as by some one deathbed after wail
Of suffering silence follows or through death
Or deathlike swoon thus over all that shore
Save for some whisper of the seething seas
A dead hush fell but when the dolorous day
Grew drearier toward twilight falling came
A bitter wind clear from the North and blew
The mist aside and with that wind the tide
Rose and the pale King glanced across the field
Of battle but no man was moving there
Nor any cry of Christian heard thereon
Nor yet of heathen only the wan wave
Brake in among dead faces to and fro
Swaying the helpless hands and up and down
Tumbling the hollow helmets of the fallen
And shivered brands that once had fought with Rome
And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere
And whiter than the mist that all day long
Had held the field of battle was the King
Hearest thou this great voice that shakes the world
And wastes the narrow realm whereon we move
And beats upon the faces of the dead
My dead as though they had not died for me 
O Bedivere for on my heart hath fallen
Confusion till I know not what I am
Nor whence I am nor whether I be King
Behold I seem but King among the dead
Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere My King
King everywhere and so the dead have kings
There also will I worship thee as King
Yet still thy life is whole and still I live
Who love thee but who hates thee he that brought
The heathen back among us yonder stands
Modred unharmed the traitor of thine house
Then spake the King My house hath been my doom
But call not thou this traitor of my house
Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof with me
My house are rather they who sware my vows
Yea even while they brake them owned me King
And well for thee saying in my dark hour
When all the purport of my throne hath failed
That quick or dead thou holdest me for King
King am I whatsoever be their cry
And one last act of kinghood shalt thou see
Yet ere I pass And uttering this the King
Made at the man then Modred smote his liege
Hard on that helm which many a heathen sword
Had beaten thin while Arthur at one blow
Striking the last stroke with Excalibur
Slew him and all but slain himself he fell
So all day long the noise of battle rolled
Among the mountains by the winter sea
Until King Arthur Table man by man
Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their lord
King Arthur Then because his wound was deep
The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him
And bore him to a chapel nigh the field
A broken chancel with a broken cross
That stood on a dark strait of barren land
On one side lay the Ocean and on one
Lay a great water and the moon was full
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere
The sequel of today unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Whereof this world holds record Such a sleep
They sleep the men I loved I think that we
Shall never more at any future time
Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds
Walking about the gardens and the halls
Of Camelot as in the days that were
I perish by this people which I made 
Though Merlin sware that I should come again
To rule once more but let what will be be
I am so deeply smitten through the helm
That without help I cannot last till morn
Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur
Which was my pride for thou rememberest how
In those old days one summer noon an arm
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake
Clothed in white samite mystic wonderful
Holding the sword and how I rowed across
And took it and have worn it like a king
And wheresoever I am sung or told
In aftertime this also shall be known
But now delay not take Excalibur
And fling him far into the middle mere
Watch what thou seest and lightly bring me word
To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere
It is not meet Sir King to leave thee thus
Aidless alone and smitten through the helm 
A little thing may harm a wounded man
Yet I thy hest will all perform at full
Watch what I see and lightly bring thee word
So saying from the ruined shrine he stept
And in the moon athwart the place of tombs
Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men
Old knights and over them the sea-wind sang
Shrill chill with flakes of foam He stepping down
By zigzag paths and juts of pointed rock
Came on the shining levels of the lake
There drew he forth the brand Excalibur
And o'er him drawing it the winter moon
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt
For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks
Myriads of topaz-lights and jacinth-work
Of subtlest jewellery He gazed so long
That both his eyes were dazzled as he stood
This way and that dividing the swift mind
In act to throw but at the last it seemed
Better to leave Excalibur concealed
There in the many-knotted waterflags
That whistled stiff and dry about the marge
So strode he back slow to the wounded King
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere
Hast thou performed my mission which I gave
What is it thou hast seen or what hast heard
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere
I heard the ripple washing in the reeds
And the wild water lapping on the crag
To whom replied King Arthur faint and pale
Thou hast betrayed thy nature and thy name
Not rendering true answer as beseemed
Thy fealty nor like a noble knight
For surer sign had followed either hand
Or voice or else a motion of the mere
This is a shameful thing for men to lie
Yet now I charge thee quickly go again
As thou art lief and dear and do the thing
I bade thee watch and lightly bring me word
Then went Sir Bedivere the second time
Across the ridge and paced beside the mere
Counting the dewy pebbles fixed in thought
But when he saw the wonder of the hilt
How curiously and strangely chased he smote
His palms together and he cried aloud
And if indeed I cast the brand away
Surely a precious thing one worthy note
Should thus be lost for ever from the earth
Which might have pleased the eyes of many men
What good should follow this if this were done
What harm undone Deep harm to disobey
Seeing obedience is the bond of rule
Were it well to obey then if a king demand
An act unprofitable against himself
The King is sick and knows not what he does
What record or what relic of my lord
Should be to aftertime but empty breath
And rumours of a doubt But were this kept
Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings
Some one might show it at a joust of arms
Saying 'King Arthur sword Excalibur
Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake
Nine years she wrought it sitting in the deeps
Upon the hidden bases of the hills
So might some old man speak in the aftertime
To all the people winning reverence
But now much honour and much fame were lost
So spake he clouded with his own conceit
And hid Excalibur the second time
And so strode back slow to the wounded King
Then spoke King Arthur breathing heavily
What is it thou hast seen or what hast heard
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere
I heard the water lapping on the crag
And the long ripple washing in the reeds
To whom replied King Arthur much in wrath
Ah miserable and unkind untrue
Unknightly traitor-hearted Woe is me
Authority forgets a dying king
Laid widowed of the power in his eye
That bowed the will I see thee what thou art
For thou the latest-left of all my knights
In whom should meet the offices of all
Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt
Either from lust of gold or like a girl
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes
Yet for a man may fail in duty twice
And the third time may prosper get thee hence
But if thou spare to fling Excalibur
I will arise and slay thee with my hands
Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere and ran
And leaping down the ridges lightly plunged
Among the bulrush beds and clutched the sword
And strongly wheeled and threw it The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon
And flashing round and round and whirled in an arch
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
By night with noises of the Northern Sea
So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur
But ere he dipt the surface rose an arm
Clothed in white samite mystic wonderful
And caught him by the hilt and brandished him
Three times and drew him under in the mere
And lightly went the other to the King
Then spoke King Arthur drawing thicker breath
Now see I by thine eyes that this is done
Speak out what is it thou hast heard or seen
And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere
Sir King I closed mine eyelids lest the gems
Should blind my purpose for I never saw
Nor shall see here or elsewhere till I die
Not though I live three lives of mortal men
So great a miracle as yonder hilt
Then with both hands I flung him wheeling him
But when I looked again behold an arm
Clothed in white samite mystic wonderful
That caught him by the hilt and brandished him
Three times and drew him under in the mere
And answer made King Arthur breathing hard
My end draws nigh 'tis time that I were gone
Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight
And bear me to the margin yet I fear
My wound hath taken cold and I shall die
So saying from the pavement he half rose
Slowly with pain reclining on his arm
And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes
As in a picture Him Sir Bedivere
Remorsefully regarded through his tears
And would have spoken but he found not words
Then took with care and kneeling on one knee
O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands
And rising bore him through the place of tombs
But as he walked King Arthur panted hard
Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed
When all the house is mute So sighed the King
Muttering and murmuring at his ear Quick quick
I fear it is too late and I shall die
But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge
Clothed with his breath and looking as he walked
Larger than human on the frozen hills
He heard the deep behind him and a cry
Before His own thought drove him like a goad
Dry clashed his harness in the icy caves
And barren chasms and all to left and right
The bare black cliff clanged round him as he based
His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang
Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels 
And on a sudden lo the level lake
And the long glories of the winter moon
Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge
Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern
Beneath them and descending they were ware
That all the decks were dense with stately forms
Black-stoled black-hooded like a dream by these
Three Queens with crowns of gold and from them rose
A cry that shivered to the tingling stars
And as it were one voice an agony
Of lamentation like a wind that shrills
All night in a waste land where no one comes
Or hath come since the making of the world
Then murmured Arthur Place me in the barge
So to the barge they came There those three Queens
Put forth their hands and took the King and wept
But she that rose the tallest of them all
And fairest laid his head upon her lap
And loosed the shattered casque and chafed his hands
And called him by his name complaining loud
And dropping bitter tears against a brow
Striped with dark blood for all his face was white
And colourless and like the withered moon
Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east
And all his greaves and cuisses dashed with drops
Of onset and the light and lustrous curls 
That made his forehead like a rising sun
High from the dais-throne were parched with dust
Or clotted into points and hanging loose
Mixed with the knightly growth that fringed his lips
So like a shattered column lay the King
Not like that Arthur who with lance in rest
From spur to plume a star of tournament
Shot through the lists at Camelot and charged
Before the eyes of ladies and of kings
Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere
Ah my Lord Arthur whither shall I go
Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes
For now I see the true old times are dead
When every morning brought a noble chance
And every chance brought out a noble knight
Such times have been not since the light that led
The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh
But now the whole Round Table is dissolved
Which was an image of the mighty world
And I the last go forth companionless
And the days darken round me and the years
Among new men strange faces other minds
And slowly answered Arthur from the barge
The old order changeth yielding place to new
And God fulfils himself in many ways
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world
Comfort thyself what comfort is in me
I have lived my life and that which I have done
May He within himself make pure but thou
If thou shouldst never see my face again
Pray for my soul More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of Wherefore let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain
If knowing God they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God
But now farewell I am going a long way
With these thou seest if indeed I go
For all my mind is clouded with a doubt 
To the island-valley of Avilion
Where falls not hail or rain or any snow
Nor ever wind blows loudly but it lies
Deep-meadowed happy fair with orchard lawns
And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound
So said he and the barge with oar and sail
Moved from the brink like some full-breasted swan
That fluting a wild carol ere her death
Ruffles her pure cold plume and takes the flood
With swarthy webs Long stood Sir Bedivere
Revolving many memories till the hull
Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn
And on the mere the wailing died away
But when that moan had past for evermore
The stillness of the dead world winter dawn
Amazed him and he groaned The King is gone
And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme
From the great deep to the great deep he goes
Whereat he slowly turned and slowly clomb
The last hard footstep of that iron crag
Thence marked the black hull moving yet and cried
He passes to be King among the dead
And after healing of his grievous wound
He comes again but if he come no more 
O me be yon dark Queens in yon black boat
Who shrieked and wailed the three whereat we gazed
On that high day when clothed with living light
They stood before his throne in silence friends
Of Arthur who should help him at his need
Then from the dawn it seemed there came but faint
As from beyond the limit of the world
Like the last echo born of a great cry
Sounds as if some fair city were one voice
Around a king returning from his wars
Thereat once more he moved about and clomb
Even to the highest he could climb and saw
Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand
Or thought he saw the speck that bare the King
Down that long water opening on the deep
Somewhere far off pass on and on and go
From less to less and vanish into light
And the new sun rose bringing the new year
O loyal to the royal in thyself
And loyal to thy land as this to thee 
Bear witness that rememberable day
When pale as yet and fever-worn the Prince
Who scarce had plucked his flickering life again
From halfway down the shadow of the grave
Past with thee through thy people and their love
And London rolled one tide of joy through all
Her trebled millions and loud leagues of man
And welcome witness too the silent cry
The prayer of many a race and creed and clime 
Thunderless lightnings striking under sea
From sunset and sunrise of all thy realm
And that true North whereof we lately heard
A strain to shame us keep you to yourselves
So loyal is too costly friends your love
Is but a burthen loose the bond and go
Is this the tone of empire here the faith
That made us rulers this indeed her voice
And meaning whom the roar of Hougoumont
Left mightiest of all peoples under heaven
What shock has fooled her since that she should speak
So feebly wealthier wealthier hour by hour
The voice of Britain or a sinking land
Some third-rate isle half-lost among her seas
There rang her voice when the full city pealed
Thee and thy Prince The loyal to their crown
Are loyal to their own far sons who love
Our ocean-empire with her boundless homes
For ever-broadening England and her throne
In our vast Orient and one isle one isle
That knows not her own greatness if she knows
And dreads it we are fallen  But thou my Queen
Not for itself but through thy living love
For one to whom I made it o'er his grave
Sacred accept this old imperfect tale
New-old and shadowing Sense at war with Soul
Ideal manhood closed in real man
Rather than that gray king whose name a ghost
Streams like a cloud man-shaped from mountain peak
And cleaves to cairn and cromlech still or him
Of Geoffrey book or him of Malleor one
Touched by the adulterous finger of a time
That hovered between war and wantonness
And crownings and dethronements take withal
Thy poet blessing and his trust that Heaven
Will blow the tempest in the distance back
From thine and ours for some are scared who mark
Or wisely or unwisely signs of storm
Waverings of every vane with every wind
And wordy trucklings to the transient hour
And fierce or careless looseners of the faith
And Softness breeding scorn of simple life
Or Cowardice the child of lust for gold
Or Labour with a groan and not a voice
Or Art with poisonous honey stolen from France
And that which knows but careful for itself
And that which knows not ruling that which knows
To its own harm the goal of this great world
Lies beyond sight yet if our slowly-grown
And crowned Republic crowning common-sense
That saved her many times not fail their fears
Are morning shadows huger than the shapes
That cast them not those gloomier which forego
The darkness of that battle in the West
Where all of high and holy dies away
NOT that I love thy children whose dull eyes
See nothing save their own unlovely woe
Whose minds know nothing nothing care to know 
But that the roar of thy Democracies
Thy reigns of Terror thy great Anarchies
Mirror my wildest passions like the sea
And give my rage a brother  Liberty
For this sake only do thy dissonant cries
Delight my discreet soul else might all kings
By bloody knout or treacherous cannonades
Rob nations of their rights inviolate
And I remain unmoved and yet and yet
These Christs that die upon the barricades
God knows it I am with them in some things
CHRIST dost Thou live indeed or are Thy bones
Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre
And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her
Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones
For here the air is horrid with men groans
The priests who call upon Thy name are slain
Dost Thou not hear the bitter wail of pain
From those whose children lie upon the stones
Come down O Son of God incestuous gloom
Curtains the land and through the starless night
Over Thy Cross a Crescent moon I see
If Thou in very truth didst burst the tomb
Come down O Son of Man and show Thy might
Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee
THERE was a time in Europe long ago
When no man died for freedom anywhere
But England lion leaping from its lair
Laid hands on the oppressor it was so
While England could a great Republic show
Witness the men of Piedmont chiefest care
Of Cromwell when with impotent despair
The Pontiff in his painted portico
Trembled before our stern ambassadors
How comes it then that from such high estate
We have thus fallen save that Luxury
With barren merchandise piles up the gate
Where noble thoughts and deeds should enter by
Else might we still be Milton heritors
THIS mighty empire hath but feet of clay
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our little island is forsaken quite
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay
And from its hills that voice hath passed away
Which spake of Freedom O come out of it
Come out of it my Soul thou art not fit
For this vile traffic-house where day by day
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries
It mars my calm wherefore in dreams of Art
And loftiest culture I would stand apart
Neither for God nor for his enemies
I REACHED the Alps the soul within me burned
Italia my Italia at thy name
And when from out the mountain heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned
And musing on the marvel of thy fame
I watched the day till marked with wounds of flame
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turned
The pine-trees waved as waves a woman hair
And in the orchards every twining spray
Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam
But when I knew that far away at Rome
In evil bonds a second Peter lay
I wept to see the land so very fair
WAS this His coming I had hoped to see
A scene of wondrous glory as was told
Of some great God who in a rain of gold
Broke open bars and fell on Danae
Or a dread vision as when Semele
Sickening for love and unappeased desire
Prayed to see God clear body and the fire
Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly
With such glad dreams I sought this holy place
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
Before this supreme mystery of Love
Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face
An angel with a lily in his hand
And over both the white wings of a Dove
NAY Lord not thus white lilies in the spring
Sad olive-groves or silver-breasted dove
Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love
Than terrors of red flame and thundering
The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring
A bird at evening flying to its nest
Tells me of One who had no place of rest
I think it is of Thee the sparrows sing
Come rather on some autumn afternoon
When red and brown are burnished on the leaves
And the fields echo to the gleaner song
Come when the splendid fulness of the moon
Looks down upon the rows of golden sheaves
And reap Thy harvest we have waited long
THE silver trumpets rang across the Dome
The people knelt upon the ground with awe
And borne upon the necks of men I saw
Like some great God the Holy Lord of Rome
Priest-like he wore a robe more white than foam
And king-like swathed himself in royal red
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea
And sought in vain for any place of rest
'Foxes have holes and every bird its nest
I only I must wander wearily
COME down O Christ and help me reach Thy hand
For I am drowning in a stormier sea
Than Simon on Thy lake of Galilee
The wine of life is spilt upon the sand
My heart is as some famine-murdered land
Whence all good things have perished utterly
And well I know my soul in Hell must lie
If I this night before God throne should stand
'He sleeps perchance or rideth to the chase
Like Baal when his prophets howled that name
From morn to noon on Carmel smitten height
Nay peace I shall behold before the night
The feet of brass the robe more white than flame
The wounded hands the weary human face
I STOOD by the unvintageable sea
Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray
The long red fires of the dying day
Burned in the west the wind piped drearily
And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee
'Alas' I cried 'my life is full of pain
And who can garner fruit or golden grain
From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly
My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw
Nathless I threw them as my final cast
Into the sea and waited for the end
When lo a sudden glory and I saw
From the black waters of my tortured past
The argent splendour of white limbs ascend
A LILY-GIRL not made for this world pain
With brown soft hair close braided by her ears
And longing eyes half veiled by slumberous tears
Like bluest water seen through mists of rain
Pale cheeks whereon no love hath left its stain
Red underlip drawn in for fear of love
And white throat whiter than the silvered dove
Through whose wan marble creeps one purple vein
Yet though my lips shall praise her without cease
Even to kiss her feet I am not bold
Being o'ershadowed by the wings of awe
Like Dante when he stood with Beatrice
Beneath the flaming Lion breast and saw
The seventh Crystal and the Stair of Gold
WHERE hast thou been since round the walls of Troy
The sons of God fought in that great emprise
Why dost thou walk our common earth again
Hast thou forgotten that impassioned boy
His purple galley and his Tyrian men
And treacherous Aphrodite mocking eyes
For surely it was thou who like a star
Hung in the silver silence of the night
Didst lure the Old World chivalry and might
Into the clamorous crimson waves of war
Or didst thou rule the fire-laden moon
In amorous Sidon was thy temple built
Over the light and laughter of the sea
Where behind lattice scarlet-wrought and gilt
Some brown-limbed girl did weave thee tapestry
All through the waste and wearied hours of noon
Till her wan cheek with flame of passion burned
And she rose up the sea-washed lips to kiss
Of some glad Cyprian sailor safe returned
From Calpe and the cliffs of Herakles
No thou art Helen and none other one
It was for thee that young Sarpedon died
And Memnon manhood was untimely spent
It was for thee gold-crested Hector tried
With Thetis' child that evil race to run
In the last year of thy beleaguerment
Ay even now the glory of thy fame
Burns in those fields of trampled asphodel
Where the high lords whom Ilion knew so well
Clash ghostly shields and call upon thy name
Where hast thou been in that enchanted land
Whose slumbering vales forlorn Calypso knew
Where never mower rose at break of day
But all unswathed the trammelling grasses grew
And the sad shepherd saw the tall corn stand
Till summer red had changed to withered grey
Didst thou lie there by some Lethaean stream
Deep brooding on thine ancient memory
The crash of broken spears the fiery gleam
From shivered helm the Grecian battle-cry
Nay thou wert hidden in that hollow hill
With one who is forgotten utterly
That discrowned Queen men call the Erycine
Hidden away that never mightst thou see
The face of Her before whose mouldering shrine
To-day at Rome the silent nations kneel
Who gat from Love no joyous gladdening
But only Love intolerable pain
Only a sword to pierce her heart in twain
Only the bitterness of child-bearing
The lotus-leaves which heal the wounds of Death
Lie in thy hand O be thou kind to me
While yet I know the summer of my days
For hardly can my tremulous lips draw breath
To fill the silver trumpet with thy praise
So bowed am I before thy mystery
So bowed and broken on Love terrible wheel
That I have lost all hope and heart to sing
Yet care I not what ruin time may bring
If in thy temple thou wilt let me kneel
Alas alas thou wilt not tarry here
But like that bird the servant of the sun
Who flies before the north wind and the night
So wilt thou fly our evil land and drear
Back to the tower of thine old delight
And the red lips of young Euphorion
Nor shall I ever see thy face again
But in this poisonous garden-close must stay
Crowning my brows with the thorn-crown of pain
Till all my loveless life shall pass away
O Helen Helen Helen yet a while
Yet for a little while O tarry here
Till the dawn cometh and the shadows flee
For in the gladsome sunlight of thy smile
Of heaven or hell I have no thought or fear
Seeing I know no other god but thee
No other god save him before whose feet
In nets of gold the tired planets move
The incarnate spirit of spiritual love
Who in thy body holds his joyous seat
Thou wert not born as common women are
But girt with silver splendour of the foam
Didst from the depths of sapphire seas arise
And at thy coming some immortal star
Bearded with flame blazed in the Eastern skies
And waked the shepherds on thine island-home
Thou shalt not die no asps of Egypt creep
Close at thy heels to taint the delicate air
No sullen-blooming poppies stain thy hair
Those scarlet heralds of eternal sleep
Lily of love pure and inviolate
Tower of ivory red rose of fire
Thou hast come down our darkness to illume
For we close-caught in the wide nets of Fate
Wearied with waiting for the World Desire
Aimlessly wandered in the House of gloom
Aimlessly sought some slumberous anodyne
For wasted lives for lingering wretchedness
Till we beheld thy re-arisen shrine
And the white glory of thy loveliness
TO that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught
Of all the great things men have saved from Time
The withered body of a girl was brought
Dead ere the world glad youth had touched its prime
And seen by lonely Arabs lying hid
In the dim womb of some black pyramid
But when they had unloosed the linen band
Which swathed the Egyptian body lo was found
Closed in the wasted hollow of her hand
A little seed which sown in English ground
Did wondrous snow of starry blossoms bear
And spread rich odours through our spring-tide air
With such strange arts this flower did allure
That all forgotten was the asphodel
And the brown bee the lily paramour
Forsook the cup where he was wont to dwell
For not a thing of earth it seemed to be
But stolen from some heavenly Arcady
In vain the sad narcissus wan and white
At its own beauty hung across the stream
The purple dragon-fly had no delight
With its gold dust to make his wings a-gleam
Ah no delight the jasmine-bloom to kiss
Or brush the rain-pearls from the eucharis
For love of it the passionate nightingale
Forgot the hills of Thrace the cruel king
And the pale dove no longer cared to sail
Through the wet woods at time of blossoming
But round this flower of Egypt sought to float
With silvered wing and amethystine throat
While the hot sun blazed in his tower of blue
A cooling wind crept from the land of snows
And the warm south with tender tears of dew
Drenched its white leaves when Hesperos up-rose
Amid those sea-green meadows of the sky
On which the scarlet bars of sunset lie
But when o'er wastes of lily-haunted field
The tired birds had stayed their amorous tune
And broad and glittering like an argent shield
High in the sapphire heavens hung the moon
Did no strange dream or evil memory make
Each tremulous petal of its blossoms shake
Ah no to this bright flower a thousand years
Seemed but the lingering of a summer day
It never knew the tide of cankering fears
Which turn a boy gold hair to withered grey
The dread desire of death it never knew
Or how all folk that they were born must rue
For we to death with pipe and dancing go
Nor would we pass the ivory gate again
As some sad river wearied of its flow
Through the dull plains the haunts of common men
Leaps lover-like into the terrible sea
And counts it gain to die so gloriously
We mar our lordly strength in barren strife
With the world legions led by clamorous care
It never feels decay but gathers life
From the pure sunlight and the supreme air
We live beneath Time wasting sovereignty
It is the child of all eternity
IT is full winter now the trees are bare
Save where the cattle huddle from the cold
Beneath the pine for it doth never wear
The autumn gaudy livery whose gold
Her jealous brother pilfers but is true
From Saturn cave a few thin wisps of hay
Lie on the sharp black hedges where the wain
Dragged the sweet pillage of a summer day
From the low meadows up the narrow lane
Upon the half-thawed snow the bleating sheep
From the shut stable to the frozen stream
And back again disconsolate and miss
The bawling shepherds and the noisy team
And overhead in circling listlessness
The cawing rooks whirl round the frosted stack
Where the gaunt bittern stalks among the reeds
And flaps his wings and stretches back his neck
And hoots to see the moon across the meads
Limps the poor frightened hare a little speck
And a stray seamew with its fretful cry
Full winter and the lusty goodman brings
His load of faggots from the chilly byre
And stamps his feet upon the hearth and flings
The sappy billets on the waning fire
And laughs to see the sudden lightening scare
Already the slim crocus stirs the snow
And soon yon blanched fields will bloom again
With nodding cowslips for some lad to mow
For with the first warm kisses of the rain
The winter icy sorrow breaks to tears
From the dark warren where the fir-cones lie
And treads one snowdrop under foot and runs
Over the mossy knoll and blackbirds fly
Across our path at evening and the suns
Stay longer with us ah how good to see
Dance through the hedges till the early rose
That sweet repentance of the thorny briar
Burst from its sheathed emerald and disclose
The little quivering disk of golden fire
Which the bees know so well for with it come
Then up and down the field the sower goes
While close behind the laughing younker scares
With shrilly whoop the black and thievish crows
And then the chestnut-tree its glory wears
And on the grass the creamy blossom falls
Steal from the bluebells' nodding carillons
Each breezy morn and then white jessamine
That star of its own heaven snap-dragons
With lolling crimson tongues and eglantine
In dusty velvets clad usurp the bed
Red leaf by leaf its folded panoply
And pansies closed their purple-lidded eyes
Chrysanthemums from gilded argosy
Unload their gaudy scentless merchandise
And violets getting overbold withdraw
O happy field and O thrice happy tree
Soon will your queen in daisy-flowered smock
And crown of flower-de-luce trip down the lea
Soon will the lazy shepherds drive their flock
Back to the pasture by the pool and soon
Soon will the glade be bright with bellamour
The flower which wantons love and those sweet nuns
Vale-lilies in their snowy vestiture
Will tell their beaded pearls and carnations
With mitred dusky leaves will scent the wind
Dear bride of Nature and most bounteous spring
That canst give increase to the sweet-breath'  kine
And to the kid its little horns and bring
The soft and silky blossoms to the vine
Where is that old nepenthe which of yore
There was a time when any common bird
Could make me sing in unison a time
When all the strings of boyish life were stirred
To quick response or more melodious rhyme
By every forest idyll do I change
Nay nay thou art the same 'tis I who seek
To vex with sighs thy simple solitude
And because fruitless tears bedew my cheek
Would have thee weep with me in brotherhood
Fool shall each wronged and restless spirit dare
Thou art the same 'tis I whose wretched soul
Takes discontent to be its paramour
And gives its kingdom to the rude control
Of what should be its servitor for sure
Wisdom is somewhere though the stormy sea
To burn with one clear flame to stand erect
In natural honour not to bend the knee
In profitless prostrations whose effect
Is by itself condemned what alchemy
Can teach me this what herb Medea brewed
The minor chord which ends the harmony
And for its answering brother waits in vain
Sobbing for incompleted melody
Dies a swan death but I the heir of pain
A silent Memnon with blank lidless eyes
The quenched-out torch the lonely cypress-gloom
The little dust stored in the narrow urn
The gentle KhAIRE of the Attic tomb 
Were not these better far than to return
To my old fitful restless malady
Nay for perchance that poppy-crowned god
Is like the watcher by a sick man bed
Who talks of sleep but gives it not his rod
Hath lost its virtue and when all is said
Death is too rude too obvious a key
And Love that noble madness whose august
And inextinguishable might can slay
The soul with honeyed drugs alas I must
From such sweet ruin play the runaway
Although too constant memory never can
Which for a little season made my youth
So soft a swoon of exquisite indolence
That all the chiding of more prudent Truth
Seemed the thin voice of jealousy O hence
Thou huntress deadlier than Artemis
My lips have drunk enough no more no more 
Though Love himself should turn his gilded prow
Back to the troubled waters of this shore
Where I am wrecked and stranded even now
The chariot wheels of passion sweep too near
More barren ay those arms will never lean
Down through the trellised vines and draw my soul
In sweet reluctance through the tangled green
Some other head must wear that aureole
For I am hers who loves not any man
Let Venus go and chuck her dainty page
And kiss his mouth and toss his curly hair
With net and spear and hunting equipage
Let young Adonis to his tryst repair
But me her fond and subtle-fashioned spell
Ay though I were that laughing shepherd boy
Who from Mount Ida saw the little cloud
Pass over Tenedos and lofty Troy
And knew the coming of the Queen and bowed
In wonder at her feet not for the sake
Then rise supreme Athena argent-limbed
And if my lips be musicless inspire
At least my life was not thy glory hymned
By One who gave to thee his sword and lyre
Like AEschylos at well-fought Marathon
And yet I cannot tread the Portico
And live without desire fear and pain
Or nurture that wise calm which long ago
The grave Athenian master taught to men
Self-poised self-centred and self-comforted
Alas that serene brow those eloquent lips
Those eyes that mirrored all eternity
Rest in their own Colonos an eclipse
Hath come on Wisdom and Mnemosyne
Is childless in the night which she had made
Nor much with Science do I care to climb
Although by strange and subtle witchery
She drew the moon from heaven the Muse Time
Unrolls her gorgeous-coloured tapestry
To no less eager eyes often indeed
How Asia sent her myriad hosts to war
Against a little town and panoplied
In gilded mail with jewelled scimitar
White-shielded purple-crested rode the Mede
Between the waving poplars and the sea
Its steep ravine spanned by a narrow wall
And on the nearer side a little brood
Of careless lions holding festival
And stood amazed at such hardihood
And pitched his tent upon the reedy shore
Some unfrequented height and coming down
The autumn forests treacherously slew
What Sparta held most dear and was the crown
Of far Eurotas and passed on nor knew
How God had staked an evil net for him
Its cadenced Greek delights me not I feel
With such a goodly time too out of tune
To love it much for like the Dial wheel
That from its blinded darkness strikes the noon
Yet never sees the sun so do my eyes
O for one grand unselfish simple life
To teach us what is Wisdom speak ye hills
Of lone Helvellyn for this note of strife
Shunned your untroubled crags and crystal rills
Where is that Spirit which living blamelessly
Speak ye Rydalian laurels where is he
Whose gentle head ye sheltered that pure soul
Whose gracious days of uncrowned majesty
Through lowliest conduct touched the lofty goal
Where love and duty mingle Him at least
But we are Learning changelings know by rote
The clarion watchword of each Grecian school
And follow none the flawless sword which smote
The pagan Hydra is an effete tool
Which we ourselves have blunted what man now
One such indeed I saw but Ichabod
Gone is that last dear son of Italy
Who being man died for the sake of God
And whose unrisen bones sleep peacefully
O guard him guard him well my Giotto tower
Of the rude tempest vex his slumber or
The Arno with its tawny troubled gold
O'er-leap its marge no mightier conqueror
Clomb the high Capitol in the days of old
When Rome was indeed Rome for Liberty
Fled shrieking to her farthest sombrest cell
With an old man who grabbled rusty keys
Fled shuddering for that immemorial knell
With which oblivion buries dynasties
Swept like a wounded eagle on the blast
He knew the holiest heart and heights of Rome
He drave the base wolf from the lion lair
And now lies dead by that empyreal dome
Which overtops Valdarno hung in air
By Brunelleschi O Melpomene
Breathe through the tragic stops such melodies
That Joy self may grow jealous and the Nine
Forget awhile their discreet emperies
Mourning for him who on Rome lordliest shrine
Lit for men lives the light of Marathon
O guard him guard him well my Giotto tower
Let some young Florentine each eventide
Bring coronals of that enchanted flower
Which the dim woods of Vallombrosa hide
And deck the marble tomb wherein he lies
Some mighty orb whose cycled wanderings
Being tempest-driven to the farthest rim
Where Chaos meets Creation and the wings
Of the eternal chanting Cherubim
Are pavilioned on Nothing passed away
He is not dead the immemorial Fates
Forbid it and the closing shears refrain
Lift up your heads ye everlasting gates
Ye argent clarions sound a loftier strain
For the vile thing he hated lurks within
Still what avails it that she sought her cave
That murderous mother of red harlotries
At Munich on the marble architrave
The Grecian boys die smiling but the seas
Which wash AEgina fret in loneliness
For lack of our ideals if one star
Flame torch-like in the heavens the unjust
Swift daylight kills it and no trump of war
Can wake to passionate voice the silent dust
Which was Mazzini once rich Niobe
What Easter Day shall make her children rise
Who were not Gods yet suffered what sure feet
Shall find their grave-clothes folded what clear eyes
Shall see them bodily O it were meet
To roll the stone from off the sepulchre
Our Italy our mother visible
Most blessed among nations and most sad
For whose dear sake the young Calabrian fell
That day at Aspromonte and was glad
That in an age when God was bought and sold
See Honour smitten on the cheek and gyves
Bind the sweet feet of Mercy Poverty
Creeps through our sunless lanes and with sharp knives
Cuts the warm throats of children stealthily
And no word said O we are wretched men
Of austere Milton where the mighty sword
Which slew its master righteously the years
Have lost their ancient leader and no word
Breaks from the voiceless tripod on our ears
While as a ruined mother in some spasm
Genders unlawful children Anarchy
Freedom own Judas the vile prodigal
Licence who steals the gold of Liberty
And yet has nothing Ignorance the real
One Fraticide since Cain Envy the asp
Is in its extent stiffened moneyed Greed
For whose dull appetite men waste away
Amid the whirr of wheels and are the seed
Of things which slay their sower these each day
Sees rife in England and the gentle feet
What even Cromwell spared is desecrated
By weed and worm left to the stormy play
Of wind and beating snow or renovated
By more destructful hands Time worst decay
Will wreathe its ruins with some loveliness
Where is that Art which bade the Angels sing
Through Lincoln lofty choir till the air
Seems from such marble harmonies to ring
With sweeter song than common lips can dare
To draw from actual reed ah where is now
For Southwell arch and carved the House of One
Who loved the lilies of the field with all
Our dearest English flowers the same sun
Rises for us the seasons natural
Weave the same tapestry of green and grey
And yet perchance it may be better so
For Tyranny is an incestuous Queen
Murder her brother is her bedfellow
And the Plague chambers with her in obscene
And bloody paths her treacherous feet are set
For gentle brotherhood the harmony
Of living in the healthful air the swift
Clean beauty of strong limbs when men are free
And women chaste these are the things which lift
Our souls up more than even Agnolo's
Or Titian little maiden on the stair
White as her own sweet lily and as tall
Or Mona Lisa smiling through her hair 
Ah somehow life is bigger after all
Than any painted angel could we see
Which curbs the passion of that level line
Of marble youths who with untroubled eyes
And chastened limbs ride round Athena shrine
And mirror her divine economies
And balanced symmetry of what in man
Between our mother kisses and the grave
Might so inform our lives that we could win
Such mighty empires that from her cave
Temptation would grow hoarse and pallid Sin
Would walk ashamed of his adulteries
To make the body and the spirit one
With all right things till no thing live in vain
From morn to noon but in sweet unison
With every pulse of flesh and throb of brain
The soul in flawless essence high enthroned
Mark with serene impartiality
The strife of things and yet be comforted
Knowing that by the chain causality
All separate existences are wed
Into one supreme whole whose utterance
Of Life in most august omnipresence
Through which the rational intellect would find
In passion its expression and mere sense
Ignoble else lend fire to the mind
And being joined with it in harmony
Strike from their several tones one octave chord
Whose cadence being measureless would fly
Through all the circling spheres then to its Lord
Return refreshed with its new empery
And more exultant power this indeed
Ah it was easy when the world was young
To keep one life free and inviolate
From our sad lips another song is rung
By our own hands our heads are desecrate
Wanderers in drear exile and dispossessed
Somehow the grace the bloom of things has flown
And of all men we are most wretched who
Must live each other lives and not our own
For very pity sake and then undo
All that we lived for it was otherwise
But we have left those gentle haunts to pass
With weary feet to the new Calvary
Where we behold as one who in a glass
Sees his own face self-slain Humanity
And in the dumb reproach of that sad gaze
O smitten mouth O forehead crowned with thorn
O chalice of all common miseries
Thou for our sakes that loved thee not hast borne
An agony of endless centuries
And we were vain and ignorant nor knew
Being ourselves the sowers and the seeds
The night that covers and the lights that fade
The spear that pierces and the side that bleeds
The lips betraying and the life betrayed
The deep hath calm the moon hath rest but we
Is this the end of all that primal force
Which in its changes being still the same
From eyeless Chaos cleft its upward course
Through ravenous seas and whirling rocks and flame
Till the suns met in heaven and began
Nay nay we are but crucified and though
The bloody sweat falls from our brows like rain
Loosen the nails we shall come down I know
Staunch the red wounds we shall be whole again
No need have we of hyssop-laden rod
Not by the justice that my father spurned
Not for the thousands whom my father slew
Altars unfed and temples overturned
Cold hearts and thankless tongues where thanks are due
Fell this dread voice from lips that cannot lie
Stern sentence of the Powers of Destiny
I will unfold my sentence and my crime
My crime that rapt in reverential awe
I sate obedient in the fiery prime
Of youth self-governed at the feet of Law
Ennobling this dull pomp the life of kings
By contemplation of diviner things
My father loved injustice and lived long
Crowned with gray hairs he died and full of sway
I loved the good he scorned and hated wrong 
The gods declare my recompense to-day
I looked for life more lasting rule more high
And when six years are measured lo I die
Yet surely O my people did I deem
Man justice from the all-just gods was given
A light that from some upper fount did beam
Some better archetype whose seat was heaven
A light that shining from the blest abodes
Did shadow somewhat of the life of gods
Mere phantoms of man self-tormenting heart
Which on the sweets that woo it dares not feed
Vain dreams which quench our pleasures then depart
When the duped soul self-mastered claims its meed
When on the strenuous just man Heaven bestows
Crown of his struggling life an unjust close
Seems it so light a thing then austere powers
To spurn man common lure life pleasant things
Seems there no joy in dances crowned with flowers
Love free to range and regal banquetings
Bend ye on these indeed an unmoved eye
Not gods but ghosts in frozen apathy
Or is it that some force too stern too strong
Even for yourselves to conquer or beguile
Bears earth and heaven and men and gods along
Like the broad volume of the insurgent Nile
And the great powers we serve themselves may be
Slaves of a tyrannous necessity
Or in mid-heaven perhaps your golden cars
Where earthly voice climbs never wing their flight
And in wild hunt through mazy tracts of stars
Sweep in the sounding stillness of the night
Or in deaf ease on thrones of dazzling sheen
Drinking deep draughts of joy ye dwell serene
Oh wherefore cheat our youth if thus it be
Of one short joy one lust one pleasant dream
Stringing vain words of powers we cannot see
Blind divinations of a will supreme
Lost labor when the circumambient gloom
But hides if gods gods careless of our doom
The rest I give to joy Even while I speak
My sand runs short and as yon star-shot ray
Hemmed by two banks of cloud peers pale and weak
Now as the barrier closes dies away 
Even so do past and future intertwine
Blotting this six years' space which yet is mine
Six years six little years six drops of time
Yet suns shall rise and many moons shall wane
And old men die and young men pass their prime
And languid pleasure fade and flower again
And the dull gods behold ere these are flown
Revels more deep joy keener than their own
Into the silence of the groves and woods
I will go forth though something would I say 
Something yet what I know not for the gods
The doom they pass revoke not nor delay
And prayers and gifts and tears are fruitless all
And the night waxes and the shadows fall
Ye men of Egypt ye have heard your king
I go and I return not But the will
Of the great gods is plain and ye must bring
Ill deeds ill passions zealous to fulfil
Their pleasure to their feet and reap their praise 
The praise of gods rich boon and length of days
 So spake he half in anger half in scorn
And one loud cry of grief and of amaze
Broke from his sorrowing people so he spake
And turning left them there and with brief pause
Girt with a throng of revellers bent his way
To the cool region of the groves he loved
There by the river-banks he wandered on
From palm-grove on to palm-grove happy trees
Their smooth tops shining sunward and beneath
Burying their unsunned stems in grass and flowers
Where in one dream the feverish time of youth
Might fade in slumber and the feet of joy
Might wander all day long and never tire
Here came the king holding high feast at morn
Rose-crowned and ever when the sun went down
A hundred lamps beamed in the tranquil gloom
From tree to tree all through the twinkling grove
Revealing all the tumult of the feast 
Flushed guests and golden goblets foamed with wine
While the deep-burnished foliage overhead
Splintered the silver arrows of the moon
It may be that sometimes his wondering soul
From the loud joyful laughter of his lips
Might shrink half startled like a guilty man
Who wrestles with his dream as some pale shape
Gliding half hidden through the dusky stems
Would thrust a hand before the lifted bowl
Whispering A little space and thou art mine
It may be on that joyless feast his eye
Dwelt with mere outward seeming he within
Took measure of his soul and knew its strength
And by that silent knowledge day by day
Was calmed ennobled comforted sustained
It may be but not less his brow was smooth
And his clear laugh fled ringing through the gloom
And his mirth quailed not at the mild reproof
Sighed out by winter sad tranquillity
Nor palled with its own fulness ebbed and died
In the rich languor of long summer-days
Nor withered when the palm-tree plumes that roofed
With their mild dark his grassy banquet-hall
Bent to the cold winds of the showerless spring
No nor grew dark when autumn brought the clouds
So six long years he revelled night and day
And when the mirth waxed loudest with dull sound
Sometimes from the grove centre echoes came
To tell his wondering people of their king
In the still night across the steaming flats
Mixed with the murmur of the moving Nile
o rest forever rest O princely pair
In your high church 'mid the still mountain-air
Where horn and hound and vassals never come
Only the blessed saints are smiling dumb
From the rich painted windows of the nave
On aisle and transept and your marble grave
Where thou young prince shalt never more arise
From the fringed mattress where thy duchess lies
On autumn-mornings when the bugle sounds
And ride across the drawbridge with thy hounds
To hunt the boar in the crisp woods till eve
And thou O princess shalt no more receive
Thou and thy ladies in the hall of state
The jaded hunters with their bloody freight
Coming benighted to the castle-gate
So sleep forever sleep O marble pair
Or if ye wake let it be then when fair
On the carved western front a flood of light
Streams from the setting sun and colors bright
Prophets transfigured saints and martyrs brave
In the vast western window of the nave
And on the pavement round the tomb there glints
A checker-work of glowing sapphire-tints
And amethyst and ruby then unclose
Your eyelids on the stone where ye repose
And from your broidered pillows lift your heads
And rise upon your cold white marble beds
And looking down on the warm rosy tints
Which checker at your feet the illumined flints
Say What is this we are in bliss forgiven 
Behold the pavement of the courts of heaven
Or let it be on autumn-nights when rain
Doth rustlingly above your heads complain
On the smooth leaden roof and on the walls
Shedding her pensive light at intervals
The moon through the clere-story windows shines
And the wind washes through the mountain-pines 
Then gazing up 'mid the dim pillars high
The foliaged marble forest where ye lie
Hush ye will say it is eternity
This is the glimmering verge of heaven and these
The columns of the heavenly palaces
And in the sweeping of the wind your ear
The passage of the angels' wings will hear
And on the lichen-crusted leads above
The rustle of the eternal rain of love
And the first gray of morning filled the east
And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream
But all the Tartar camp along the stream
Was hushed and still the men were plunged in sleep
Sohrab alone he slept not all night long
He had lain wakeful tossing on his bed
But when the gray dawn stole into his tent
He rose and clad himself and girt his sword
And took his horseman cloak and left his tent
And went abroad into the cold wet fog
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa tent
Through the black Tartar tents he passed which stood
Clustering like bee-hives on the low flat strand
Of Oxus where the summer-floods o'erflow
When the sun melts the snows in high Pamere
Through the black tents he passed o'er that low strand
And to a hillock came a little back
From the stream brink the spot where first a boat
Crossing the stream in summer scrapes the land
The men of former times had crowned the top
With a clay fort but that was fallen and now
The Tartars built there Peran-Wisa tent
A dome of laths and o'er it felts were spread
And Sohrab came there and went in and stood
Upon the thick piled carpets in the tent
And found the old man sleeping on his bed
Of rugs and felts and near him lay his arms
And Peran-Wisa heard him though the step
Was dulled for he slept light an old man sleep
And he rose quickly on one arm and said 
Who art thou for it is not yet clear dawn
Speak is there news or any night alarm
But Sohrab came to the bedside and said 
Thou know'st me Peran-Wisa it is I
The sun has not yet risen and the foe
Sleep but I sleep not all night long I lie
Tossing and wakeful and I come to thee
For so did King Afrasiab bid me seek
Thy counsel and to heed thee as thy son
In Samarcand before the army marched
And I will tell thee what my heart desires
Thou know'st if since from Ader-baijan first
I came among the Tartars and bore arms
I have still served Afrasiab well and shown
At my boy years the courage of a man
This too thou know'st that while I still bear on
The conquering Tartar ensigns through the world
And beat the Persians back on every field
I seek one man one man and one alone 
Rustum my father who I hoped should greet
Should one day greet upon some well-fought field
His not unworthy not inglorious son
So I long hoped but him I never find
Come then hear now and grant me what I ask
Let the two armies rest to-day but I
Will challenge forth the bravest Persian lords
To meet me man to man if I prevail
Rustum will surely hear it if I fall 
Old man the dead need no one claim no kin
Dim is the rumor of a common fight
Where host meets host and many names are sunk
But of a single combat fame speaks clear
He spoke and Peran-Wisa took the hand
Of the young man in his and sighed and said 
O Sohrab an unquiet heart is thine
Canst thou not rest among the Tartar chiefs
And share the battle common chance with us
Who love thee but must press forever first
In single fight incurring single risk
To find a father thou hast never seen
That were far best my son to stay with us
Unmurmuring in our tents while it is war
And when 'tis truce then in Afrasiab towns
But if this one desire indeed rules all
To seek out Rustum seek him not through fight
Seek him in peace and carry to his arms
O Sohrab carry an unwounded son
But far hence seek him for he is not here
For now it is not as when I was young
When Rustum was in front of every fray
But now he keeps apart and sits at home
In Seistan with Zal his father old
Whether that his own mighty strength at last
Feels the abhorred approaches of old age
Or in some quarrel with the Persian king
There go Thou wilt not Yet my heart forebodes
Danger or death awaits thee on this field
Fain would I know thee safe and well though lost
To us fain therefore send thee hence in peace
To seek thy father not seek single fights
In vain But who can keep the lion cub
From ravening and who govern Rustum son
Go I will grant thee what thy heart desires
So said he and dropped Sohrab hand and left
His bed and the warm rugs whereon he lay
And o'er his chilly limbs his woollen coat
He passed and tied his sandals on his feet
And threw a white cloak round him and he took
In his right hand a ruler staff no sword
And on his head he set his sheep-skin cap
Black glossy curled the fleece of Kara-Kul
And raised the curtain of his tent and called
His herald to his side and went abroad
The sun by this had risen and cleared the fog
From the broad Oxus and the glittering sands
And from their tents the Tartar horsemen filed
Into the open plain so Haman bade 
Haman who next to Peran-Wisa ruled
The host and still was in his lusty prime
From their black tents long files of horse they streamed
As when some gray November morn the files
In marching order spread of long-necked cranes
Stream over Casbin and the southern slopes
Of Elburz from the Aralian estuaries
Or some frore Caspian reed-bed southward bound
For the warm Persian seaboard so they streamed
The Tartars of the Oxus the king guard
First with black sheep-skin caps and with long spears
Large men large steeds who from Bokhara come
And Khiva and ferment the milk of mares
Next the more temperate Toorkmuns of the south
The Tukas and the lances of Salore
And those from Attruck and the Caspian sands
Light men and on light steeds who only drink
The acrid milk of camels and their wells
And then a swarm of wandering horse who came
From far and a more doubtful service owned 
The Tartars of Ferghana from the banks
Of the Jaxartes men with scanty beards
And close-set skull-caps and those wilder hordes
Who roam o'er Kipchak and the northern waste
Kalmucks and unkempt Kuzzaks tribes who stray
Nearest the Pole and wandering Kirghizzes
Who come on shaggy ponies from Pamere 
These all filed out from camp into the plain
And on the other side the Persians formed 
First a light cloud of horse Tartars they seemed
The Ilyats of Khorassan and behind
The royal troops of Persia horse and foot
Marshalled battalions bright in burnished steel
But Peran-Wisa with his herald came
Threading the Tartar squadrons to the front
And with his staff kept back the foremost ranks
And when Ferood who led the Persians saw
That Peran-Wisa kept the Tartars back
He took his spear and to the front he came
And checked his ranks and fixed them where they stood
And the old Tartar came upon the sand
Betwixt the silent hosts and spake and said 
Ferood and ye Persians and Tartars hear
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab man to man
As in the country on a morn in June
When the dew glistens on the pearled ears
A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy 
So when they heard what Peran-Wisa said
A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran
Of pride and hope for Sohrab whom they loved
But as a troop of pedlers from Cabool
Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus
That vast sky-neighboring mountain of milk snow
Crossing so high that as they mount they pass
Long flocks of travelling birds dead on the snow
Choked by the air and scarce can they themselves
Slake their parched throats with sugared mulberries
In single file they move and stop their breath
For fear they should dislodge the o'erhanging snows 
So the pale Persians held their breath with fear
And to Ferood his brother chiefs came up
To counsel Gudurz and Zoarrah came
And Feraburz who ruled the Persian host
Second and was the uncle of the king
These came and counselled and then Gudurz said 
Ferood shame bids us take their challenge up
Yet champion have we none to match this youth
He has the wild stag foot the lion heart
But Rustum came last night aloof he sits
And sullen and has pitched his tents apart
Him will I seek and carry to his ear
The Tartar challenge and this young man name
Haply he will forget his wrath and fight
Stand forth the while and take their challenge up
So spake he and Ferood stood forth and cried 
Old man be it agreed as thou hast said
Let Sohrab arm and we will find a man
He spake and Peran-Wisa turned and strode
Back through the opening squadrons to his tent
But through the anxious Persians Gudurz ran
And crossed the camp which lay behind and reached
Out on the sands beyond it Rustum tents
Of scarlet cloth they were and glittering gay
Just pitched the high pavilion in the midst
Was Rustum and his men lay camped around
And Gudurz entered Rustum tent and found
Rustum his morning meal was done but still
The table stood before him charged with food 
A side of roasted sheep and cakes of bread
And dark-green melons and there Rustum sate
Listless and held a falcon on his wrist
And played with it but Gudurz came and stood
Before him and he looked and saw him stand
And with a cry sprang up and dropped the bird
And greeted Gudurz with both hands and said 
Welcome these eyes could see no better sight
What news but sit down first and eat and drink
But Gudurz stood in the tent-door and said 
Not now A time will come to eat and drink
But not to-day to-day has other needs
The armies are drawn out and stand at gaze
For from the Tartars is a challenge brought
To pick a champion from the Persian lords
To fight their champion and thou know'st his name
Sohrab men call him but his birth is hid
O Rustum like thy might is this young man's
He has the wild stag foot the lion heart
And he is young and Iran chiefs are old
Or else too weak and all eyes turn to thee
Come down and help us Rustum or we lose
He spoke but Rustum answered with a smile 
Go to if Iran chiefs are old then I
Am older If the young are weak the king
Errs strangely for the king for Kai Khosroo
Himself is young and honors younger men
And lets the aged moulder to their graves
Rustum he loves no more but loves the young
The young may rise at Sohrab vaunts not I
For what care I though all speak Sohrab fame
For would that I myself had such a son
And not that one slight helpless girl I have 
A son so famed so brave to send to war
And I to tarry with the snow-haired Zal
My father whom the robber Afghans vex
And clip his borders short and drive his herds
And he has none to guard his weak old age
There would I go and hang my armor up
And with my great name fence that weak old man
And spend the goodly treasures I have got
And rest my age and hear of Sohrab fame
And leave to death the hosts of thankless kings
And with these slaughterous hands draw sword no more
He spoke and smiled and Gudurz made reply 
What then O Rustum will men say to this
When Sohrab dares our bravest forth and seeks
Thee most of all and thou whom most he seeks
Hidest thy face Take heed lest men should say 
Like some old miser Rustum hoards his fame
And shuns to peril it with younger men
And greatly moved then Rustum made reply 
O Gudurz wherefore dost thou say such words
Thou knowest better words than this to say
What is one more one less obscure or famed
Valiant or craven young or old to me
Are not they mortal am not I myself
But who for men of naught would do great deeds
Come thou shalt see how Rustum hoards his fame
But I will fight unknown and in plain arms
Let not men say of Rustum he was matched
In single fight with any mortal man
He spoke and frowned and Gudurz turned and ran
Back quickly through the camp in fear and joy 
Fear at his wrath but joy that Rustum came
But Rustum strode to his tent-door and called
His followers in and bade them bring his arms
And clad himself in steel The arms he chose
Were plain and on his shield was no device
Only his helm was rich inlaid with gold
And from the fluted spine a-top a plume
Of horse-hair waved a scarlet horse-hair plume
So armed he issued forth and Ruksh his horse
Followed him like a faithful hound at heel 
Ruksh whose renown was noised through all the earth
The horse whom Rustum on a foray once
Did in Bokhara by the river find
A colt beneath its dam and drove him home
And reared him a bright bay with lofty crest
Dight with a saddle-cloth of broidered green
Crusted with gold and on the ground were worked
All beasts of chase all beasts which hunters know
So followed Rustum left his tents and crossed
The camp and to the Persian host appeared
And all the Persians knew him and with shouts
Hailed but the Tartars knew not who he was
And dear as the wet diver to the eyes
Of his pale wife who waits and weeps on shore
By sandy Bahrein in the Persian Gulf
Plunging all day in the blue waves at night
Having made up his tale of precious pearls
Rejoins her in their hut upon the sands 
So dear to the pale Persians Rustum came
And Rustum to the Persian front advanced
And Sohrab armed in Haman tent and came
And as a-field the reapers cut a swath
Down through the middle of a rich man corn
And on each side are squares of standing corn
And in the midst a stubble short and bare 
So on each side were squares of men with spears
Bristling and in the midst the open sand
And Rustum came upon the sand and cast
His eyes toward the Tartar tents and saw
Sohrab come forth and eyed him as he came
As some rich woman on a winter morn
Eyes through her silken curtains the poor drudge
Who with numb blackened fingers makes her fire 
At cock-crow on a starlit winter morn
When the frost flowers the whitened window-panes 
And wonders how she lives and what the thoughts
Of that poor drudge may be so Rustum eyed
The unknown adventurous youth who from afar
Came seeking Rustum and defying forth
All the most valiant chiefs long he perused
His spirited air and wondered who he was
For very young he seemed tenderly reared
Like some young cypress tall and dark and straight
Which in a queen secluded garden throws
Its slight dark shadow on the moonlit turf
By midnight to a bubbling fountain sound 
So slender Sohrab seemed so softly reared
And a deep pity entered Rustum soul
As he beheld him coming and he stood
And beckoned to him with his hand and said 
O thou young man the air of heaven is soft
And warm and pleasant but the grave is cold
Heaven air is better than the cold dead grave
Behold me I am vast and clad in iron
And tried and I have stood on many a field
Of blood and I have fought with many a foe
Never was that field lost or that foe saved
O Sohrab wherefore wilt thou rush on death
Be governed quit the Tartar host and come
To Iran and be as my son to me
And fight beneath my banner till I die
There are no youths in Iran brave as thou
So he spake mildly Sohrab heard his voice
The mighty voice of Rustum and he saw
His giant figure planted on the sand
Sole like some single tower which a chief
Hath builded on the waste in former years
Against the robbers and he saw that head
Streaked with its first gray hairs hope filled his soul
And he ran forward and embraced his knees
And clasped his hand within his own and said 
Oh by thy father head by thine own soul
Art thou not Rustum Speak art thou not he
But Rustum eyed askance the kneeling youth
And turned away and spake to his own soul 
Ah me I muse what this young fox may mean
False wily boastful are these Tartar boys
For if I now confess this thing he asks
And hide it not but say Rustum is here
He will not yield indeed nor quit our foes
But he will find some pretext not to fight
And praise my fame and proffer courteous gifts
A belt or sword perhaps and go his way
And on a feast-tide in Afrasiab hall
In Samarcand he will arise and cry 
'I challenged once when the two armies camped
Beside the Oxus all the Persian lords
To cope with me in single fight but they
Shrank only Rustum dared then he and I
Changed gifts and went on equal terms away
So will he speak perhaps while men applaud
Then were the chiefs of Iran shamed through me
And then he turned and sternly spake aloud 
Rise wherefore dost thou vainly question thus
Of Rustum I am here whom thou hast called
By challenge forth make good thy vaunt or yield
Is it with Rustum only thou wouldst fight
Rash boy men look on Rustum face and flee
For well I know that did great Rustum stand
Before thy face this day and were revealed
There would be then no talk of fighting more
But being what I am I tell thee this 
Do thou record it in thine inmost soul
Either thou shalt renounce thy vaunt and yield
Or else thy bones shall strew this sand till winds
Bleach them or Oxus with his summer-floods
Oxus in summer wash them all away
He spoke and Sohrab answered on his feet 
Art thou so fierce Thou wilt not fight me so
I am no girl to be made pale by words
Yet this thou hast said well did Rustum stand
Here on this field there were no fighting then
But Rustum is far hence and we stand here
Begin thou art more vast more dread than I
And thou art proved I know and I am young 
But yet success sways with the breath of Heaven
And though thou thinkest that thou knowest sure
Thy victory yet thou canst not surely know
For we are all like swimmers in the sea
Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate
Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall
And whether it will heave us up to land
Or whether it will roll us out to sea 
Back out to sea to the deep waves of death 
We know not and no search will make us know
Only the event will teach us in its hour
He spoke and Rustum answered not but hurled
His spear down from the shoulder down it came
As on some partridge in the corn a hawk
That long has towered in the airy clouds
Drops like a plummet Sohrab saw it come
And sprang aside quick as a flash the spear
Hissed and went quivering down into the sand
Which it sent flying wide Then Sohrab threw
In turn and full struck Rustum shield sharp rang
The iron plates rang sharp but turned the spear
And Rustum seized his club which none but he
Could wield an unlopped trunk it was and huge
Still rough like those which men in treeless plains
To build them boats fish from the flooded rivers
Hyphasis or Hydaspes when high up
By their dark springs the wind in winter-time
Hath made in Himalayan forests wrack
And strewn the channels with torn boughs so huge
The club which Rustum lifted now and struck
One stroke but again Sohrab sprang aside
Lithe as the glancing snake and the club came
Thundering to earth and leapt from Rustum hand
And Rustum followed his own blow and fell
To his knees and with his fingers clutched the sand
And now might Sohrab have unsheathed his sword
And pierced the mighty Rustum while he lay
Dizzy and on his knees and choked with sand
But he looked on and smiled nor bared his sword
But courteously drew back and spoke and said 
Thou strik'st too hard that club of thine will float
Upon the summer-floods and not my bones
But rise and be not wroth not wroth am I
No when I see thee wrath forsakes my soul
Thou say'st thou art not Rustum be it so
Who art thou then that canst so touch my soul
Boy as I am I have seen battles too 
Have waded foremost in their bloody waves
And heard their hollow roar of dying men
But never was my heart thus touched before
Are they from Heaven these softenings of the heart
O thou old warrior let us yield to Heaven
Come plant we here in earth our angry spears
And make a truce and sit upon this sand
And pledge each other in red wine like friends
And thou shalt talk to me of Rustum deeds
There are enough foes in the Persian host
Whom I may meet and strike and feel no pang
Champions enough Afrasiab has whom thou
Mayst fight fight them when they confront thy spear
But oh let there be peace 'twixt thee and me
He ceased but while he spake Rustum had risen
And stood erect trembling with rage his club
He left to lie but had regained his spear
Whose fiery point now in his mailed right hand
Blazed bright and baleful like that autumn-star
The baleful sign of fevers dust had soiled
His stately crest and dimmed his glittering arms
His breast heaved his lips foamed and twice his voice
Was choked with rage at last these words broke way 
Girl nimble with thy feet not with thy hands
Curled minion dancer coiner of sweet words
Fight let me hear thy hateful voice no more
Thou art not in Afrasiab gardens now
With Tartar girls with whom thou art wont to dance
But on the Oxus-sands and in the dance
Of battle and with me who make no play
Of war I fight it out and hand to hand
Speak not to me of truce and pledge and wine
Remember all thy valor try thy feints
And cunning all the pity I had is gone
Because thou hast shamed me before both the hosts
With thy light skipping tricks and thy girl wiles
He spoke and Sohrab kindled at his taunts
And he too drew his sword at once they rushed
Together as two eagles on one prey
Come rushing down together from the clouds
One from the east one from the west their shields
Dashed with a clang together and a din
Rose such as that the sinewy woodcutters
Make often in the forest heart at morn
Of hewing axes crashing trees such blows
Rustum and Sohrab on each other hailed
And you would say that sun and stars took part
In that unnatural conflict for a cloud
Grew suddenly in heaven and darked the sun
Over the fighters' heads and a wind rose
Under their feet and moaning swept the plain
And in a sandy whirlwind wrapped the pair
In gloom they twain were wrapped and they alone
For both the on-looking hosts on either hand
Stood in broad daylight and the sky was pure
And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream
But in the gloom they fought with bloodshot eyes
And laboring breath First Rustum struck the shield
Which Sohrab held stiff out the steel-spiked spear
Rent the tough plates but failed to reach the skin
And Rustum plucked it back with angry groan
Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum helm
Nor clove its steel quite through but all the crest
He shore away and that proud horse-hair plume
Never till now defiled sank to the dust
And Rustum bowed his head But then the gloom
Grew blacker thunder rumbled in the air
And lightnings rent the cloud and Ruksh the horse
Who stood at hand uttered a dreadful cry
No horse cry was that most like the roar
Of some pained desert-lion who all day
Has trailed the hunter javelin in his side
And comes at night to die upon the sand
The two hosts heard that cry and quaked for fear
And Oxus curdled as it crossed his stream
But Sohrab heard and quailed not but rushed on
And struck again and again Rustum bowed
His head but this time all the blade like glass
Sprang in a thousand shivers on the helm
And in the hand the hilt remained alone
Then Rustum raised his head his dreadful eyes
Glared and he shook on high his menacing spear
And shouted Rustum Sohrab heard that shout
And shrank amazed back he recoiled one step
And scanned with blinking eyes the advancing form
And then he stood bewildered and he dropped
His covering shield and the spear pierced his side
He reeled and staggering back sank to the ground
And then the gloom dispersed and the wind fell
And the bright sun broke forth and melted all
The cloud and the two armies saw the pair 
Saw Rustum standing safe upon his feet
And Sohrab wounded on the bloody sand
Then with a bitter smile Rustum began 
Sohrab thou thoughtest in thy mind to kill
A Persian lord this day and strip his corpse
And bear thy trophies to Afrasiab tent
Or else that the great Rustum would come down
Himself to fight and that thy wiles would move
His heart to take a gift and let thee go
And then that all the Tartar host would praise
Thy courage or thy craft and spread thy fame
To glad thy father in his weak old age
Fool thou art slain and by an unknown man
Dearer to the red jackals shalt thou be
Than to thy friends and to thy father old
And with a fearless mien Sohrab replied 
Unknown thou art yet thy fierce vaunt is vain
Thou dost not slay me proud and boastful man
No Rustum slays me and this filial heart
For were I matched with ten such men as thee
And I were that which till to-day I was
They should be lying here I standing there
But that beloved name unnerved my arm 
That name and something I confess in thee
Which troubles all my heart and made my shield
Fall and thy spear transfixed an unarmed foe
And now thou boastest and insult'st my fate
But hear thou this fierce man tremble to hear
The mighty Rustum shall avenge my death
My father whom I seek through all the world
He shall avenge my death and punish thee
As when some hunter in the spring hath found
A breeding eagle sitting on her nest
Upon the craggy isle of a hill-lake
And pierced her with an arrow as she rose
And followed her to find her where she fell
Far off anon her mate comes winging back
From hunting and a great way off descries
His huddling young left sole at that he checks
His pinion and with short uneasy sweeps
Circles above his eyry with loud screams
Chiding his mate back to her nest but she
Lies dying with the arrow in her side
In some far stony gorge out of his ken
A heap of fluttering feathers never more
Shall the lake glass her flying over it
Never the black and dripping precipices
Echo her stormy scream as she sails by 
As that poor bird flies home nor knows his loss
So Rustum knew not his own loss but stood
Over his dying son and knew him not
And with a cold incredulous voice he said 
What prate is this of fathers and revenge
The mighty Rustum never had a son
And with a failing voice Sohrab replied 
Ah yes he had and that lost son am I
Surely the news will one day reach his ear 
Reach Rustum where he sits and tarries long
Somewhere I know not where but far from here
And pierce him like a stab and make him leap
To arms and cry for vengeance upon thee
Fierce man bethink thee for an only son
What will that grief what will that vengeance be
Oh could I live till I that grief had seen
Yet him I pity not so much but her
My mother who in Ader-baijan dwells
With that old king her father who grows gray
With age and rules over the valiant Koords
Her most I pity who no more will see
Sohrab returning from the Tartar camp
With spoils and honor when the war is done
But a dark rumor will be bruited up
From tribe to tribe until it reach her ear
And then will that defenceless woman learn
That Sohrab will rejoice her sight no more
But that in battle with a nameless foe
By the far-distant Oxus he is slain
He spoke and as he ceased he wept aloud
Thinking of her he left and his own death
He spoke but Rustum listened plunged in thought
Nor did he yet believe it was his son
Who spoke although he called back names he knew
For he had had sure tidings that the babe
Which was in Ader-baijan born to him
Had been a puny girl no boy at all 
So that sad mother sent him word for fear
Rustum should seek the boy to train in arms
And so he deemed that either Sohrab took
By a false boast the style of Rustum son
Or that men gave it him to swell his fame
So deemed he yet he listened plunged in thought
And his soul set to grief as the vast tide
Of the bright rocking ocean sets to shore
At the full moon tears gathered in his eyes
For he remembered his own early youth
And all its bounding rapture as at dawn
The shepherd from his mountain-lodge descries
A far bright city smitten by the sun
Through many rolling clouds so Rustum saw
His youth saw Sohrab mother in her bloom
And that old king her father who loved well
His wandering guest and gave him his fair child
With joy and all the pleasant life they led
They three in that long-distant summer-time 
The castle and the dewy woods and hunt
And hound and morn on those delightful hills
In Ader-baijan And he saw that youth
Of age and looks to be his own dear son
Piteous and lovely lying on the sand
Like some rich hyacinth which by the scythe
Of an unskilful gardener has been cut
Mowing the garden grass-plots near its bed
And lies a fragrant tower of purple bloom
On the mown dying grass so Sohrab lay
Lovely in death upon the common sand
And Rustum gazed on him with grief and said 
O Sohrab thou indeed art such a son
Whom Rustum wert thou his might well have loved
Yet here thou errest Sohrab or else men
Have told thee false thou art not Rustum son
For Rustum had no son one child he had 
But one a girl who with her mother now
Plies some light female task nor dreams of us 
Of us she dreams not nor of wounds nor war
But Sohrab answered him in wrath for now
The anguish of the deep-fixed spear grew fierce
And he desired to draw forth the steel
And let the blood flow free and so to die
But first he would convince his stubborn foe
And rising sternly on one arm he said 
Man who art thou who dost deny my words
Truth sits upon the lips of dying men
And falsehood while I lived was far from mine
I tell thee pricked upon this arm I bear
That seal which Rustum to my mother gave
That she might prick it on the babe she bore
He spoke and all the blood left Rustum cheeks
And his knees tottered and he smote his hand
Against his breast his heavy mailed hand
That the hard iron corslet clanked aloud
And to his heart he pressed the other hand
And in a hollow voice he spake and said 
Sohrab that were a proof which could not lie
If thou show this then art thou Rustum son
Then with weak hasty fingers Sohrab loosed
His belt and near the shoulder bared his arm
And showed a sign in faint vermilion points
Pricked as a cunning workman in Pekin
Pricks with vermilion some clear porcelain vase
An emperor gift at early morn he paints
And all day long and when night comes the lamp
Lights up his studious forehead and thin hands 
So delicately pricked the sign appeared
On Sohrab arm the sign of Rustum seal
It was that griffin which of old reared Zal
Rustum great father whom they left to die
A helpless babe among the mountain rocks
Him that kind creature found and reared and loved
Then Rustum took it for his glorious sign
And Sohrab bared that image on his arm
And himself scanned it long with mournful eyes
And then he touched it with his hand and said 
How say'st thou Is that sign the proper sign
Of Rustum son or of some other man's
He spoke but Rustum gazed and gazed and stood
Speechless and then he uttered one sharp cry 
O boy thy father and his voice choked there
And then a dark cloud passed before his eyes
And his head swam and he sank down to earth
But Sohrab crawled to where he lay and cast
His arms about his neck and kissed his lips
And with fond faltering fingers stroked his cheeks
Trying to call him back to life and life
Came back to Rustum and he oped his eyes
And they stood wide with horror and he seized
In both his hands the dust which lay around
And threw it on his head and smirched his hair 
His hair and face and beard and glittering arms
And strong convulsive groanings shook his breast
And his sobs choked him and he clutched his sword
To draw it and forever let life out
But Sohrab saw his thought and held his hands
And with a soothing voice he spake and said 
Father forbear for I but meet to-day
The doom which at my birth was written down
In Heaven and thou art Heaven unconscious hand
Surely my heart cried out that it was thou
When first I saw thee and thy heart spoke too
I know it But fate trod those promptings down
Under its iron heel fate fate engaged
The strife and hurled me on my father spear
But let us speak no more of this I find
My father let me feel that I have found
Come sit beside me on this sand and take
My head betwixt thy hands and kiss my cheeks
And wash them with thy tears and say My son
Quick quick for numbered are my sands of life
And swift for like the lightning to this field
I came and like the wind I go away 
Sudden and swift and like a passing wind
But it was writ in Heaven that this should be
So said he and his voice released the heart
Of Rustum and his tears broke forth he cast
His arms round his son neck and wept aloud
And kissed him And awe fell on both the hosts
When they saw Rustum grief and Ruksh the horse
With his head bowing to the ground and mane
Sweeping the dust came near and in mute woe
First to the one then to the other moved
His head as if inquiring what their grief
Might mean and from his dark compassionate eyes
The big warm tears rolled down and caked the sand
But Rustum chid him with stern voice and said 
Ruksh now thou grievest but O Ruksh thy feet
Should then have rotted on their nimble joints
When first they bore thy master to this field
But Sohrab looked upon the horse and said 
Is this then Ruksh How often in past days
My mother told me of thee thou brave steed
My terrible father terrible horse and said
That I should one day find thy lord and thee
Come let me lay my hand upon thy mane
O Ruksh thou art more fortunate than I
For thou hast gone where I shall never go
And snuffed the breezes of my father home
And thou hast trod the sands of Seistan
And seen the River of Helmund and the Lake
Of Zirrah and the aged Zal himself
Has often stroked thy neck and given thee food
Corn in a golden platter soaked with wine
And said O Ruksh bear Rustum well But I
Have never known my grandsire furrowed face
Nor seen his lofty house in Seistan
Nor slaked my thirst at the clear Helmund stream
But lodged among my father foes and seen
Afrasiab cities only Samarcand
Bokhara and lone Khiva in the waste
And the black Toorkmun tents and only drunk
The desert rivers Moorghab and Tejend
Kohik and where the Kalmuks feed their sheep
The northern Sir and this great Oxus stream
The yellow Oxus by whose brink I die
Then with a heavy groan Rustum bewailed 
Oh that its waves were flowing over me
Oh that I saw its grains of yellow silt
Roll tumbling in the current o'er my head
But with a grave mild voice Sohrab replied 
Desire not that my father thou must live
For some are born to do great deeds and live
As some are born to be obscured and die
Do thou the deeds I die too young to do
And reap a second glory in thine age
Thou art my father and thy gain is mine
But come thou seest this great host of men
Which follow me I pray thee slay not these
Let me entreat for them what have they done
They followed me my hope my fame my star
Let them all cross the Oxus back in peace
But me thou must bear hence not send with them
But carry me with thee to Seistan
And place me on a bed and mourn for me 
Thou and the snow-haired Zal and all thy friends
And thou must lay me in that lovely earth
And heap a stately mound above my bones
And plant a far-seen pillar over all
That so the passing horseman on the waste
May see my tomb a great way off and cry 
Sohrab the mighty Rustum son lies there
Whom his great father did in ignorance kill
And I be not forgotten in my grave
And with a mournful voice Rustum replied 
Fear not as thou hast said Sohrab my son
So shall it be for I will burn my tents
And quit the host and bear thee hence with me
And carry thee away to Seistan
And place thee on a bed and mourn for thee
With the snow-headed Zal and all my friends
And I will lay thee in that lovely earth
And heap a stately mound above thy bones
And plant a far-seen pillar over all
And men shall not forget thee in thy grave
And I will spare thy host yea let them go
Let them all cross the Oxus back in peace
What should I do with slaying any more
For would that all whom I have ever slain
Might be once more alive my bitterest foes
And they who were called champions in their time
And through whose death I won that fame I have 
And I were nothing but a common man
A poor mean soldier and without renown
So thou mightest live too my son my son
Or rather would that I even I myself
Might now be lying on this bloody sand
Near death and by an ignorant stroke of thine
Not thou of mine and I might die not thou
And I not thou be borne to Seistan
And Zal might weep above my grave not thine
And say O son I weep thee not too sore
For willingly I know thou met'st thine end
But now in blood and battles was my youth
And full of blood and battles is my age
And I shall never end this life of blood
Then at the point of death Sohrab replied 
A life of blood indeed thou dreadful man
But thou shalt yet have peace only not now
Not yet but thou shalt have it on that day
When thou shalt sail in a high-masted ship
Thou and the other peers of Kai Khosroo
Returning home over the salt blue sea
From laying thy dear master in his grave
And Rustum gazed in Sohrab face and said 
Soon be that day my son and deep that sea
Till then if fate so wills let me endure
He spoke and Sohrab smiled on him and took
The spear and drew it from his side and eased
His wound imperious anguish but the blood
Came welling from the open gash and life
Flowed with the stream all down his cold white side
The crimson torrent ran dim now and soiled
Like the soiled tissue of white violets
Left freshly gathered on their native bank
By children whom their nurses call with haste
In-doors from the sun eye his head drooped low
His limbs grew slack motionless white he lay 
White with eyes closed only when heavy gasps
Deep heavy gasps quivering through all his frame
Convulsed him back to life he opened them
And fixed them feebly on his father face
Till now all strength was ebbed and from his limbs
Unwillingly the spirit fled away
Regretting the warm mansion which it left
And youth and bloom and this delightful world
So on the bloody sand Sohrab lay dead
And the great Rustum drew his horseman cloak
Down o'er his face and sate by his dead son
As those black granite pillars once high-reared
By Jemshid in Persepolis to bear
His house now 'mid their broken flights of steps
Lie prone enormous down the mountain side 
So in the sand lay Rustum by his son
And night came down over the solemn waste
And the two gazing hosts and that sole pair
And darkened all and a cold fog with night
Crept from the Oxus Soon a hum arose
As of a great assembly loosed and fires
Began to twinkle through the fog for now
Both armies moved to camp and took their meal
The Persians took it on the open sands
Southward the Tartars by the river-marge
And Rustum and his son were left alone
But the majestic river floated on
Out of the mist and hum of that low land
Into the frosty starlight and there moved
Rejoicing through the hushed Chorasmian waste
Under the solitary moon he flowed
Right for the polar star past Orgunje
Brimming and bright and large then sands begin
To hem his watery march and dam his streams
And split his currents that for many a league
The shorn and parcelled Oxus strains along
Through beds of sand and matted rushy isles 
Oxus forgetting the bright speed he had
In his high mountain cradle in Pamere
A foiled circuitous wanderer till at last
The longed-for dash of waves is heard and wide
His luminous home of waters opens bright
And tranquil from whose floor the new-bathed stars
Emerge and shine upon the Aral Sea
So on the floor lay Balder dead and round
Lay thickly strewn swords axes darts and spears
Which all the gods in sport had idly thrown
At Balder whom no weapon pierced or clove
But in his breast stood fixed the fatal bough
Of mistletoe which Lok the Accuser gave
To Hoder and unwitting Hoder threw threw 
'Gainst that alone had Balder life no charm
And all the gods and all the heroes came
And stood round Balder on the bloody floor
Weeping and wailing and Valhalla rang
Up to its golden roof with sobs and cries
And on the tables stood the untasted meats
And in the horns and gold-rimmed sculls the wine
And now would night have fallen and found them yet
Wailing but otherwise was Odin will
And thus the Father of the ages spake 
Enough of tears ye gods enough of wail
Not to lament in was Valhalla made
If any here might weep for Balder death
I most might weep his father such a son
I lose to-day so bright so loved a god
But he has met that doom which long ago
The Nornies when his mother bare him spun
And fate set seal that so his end must be
Balder has met his death and ye survive
Weep him an hour but what can grief avail
For ye yourselves ye gods shall meet your doom 
All ye who hear me and inhabit heaven
And I too Odin too the lord of all
But ours we shall not meet when that day comes
With women tears and weak complaining cries
Why should we meet another portion so
Rather it fits you having wept your hour
With cold dry eyes and hearts composed and stern
To live as erst your daily life in heaven
By me shall vengeance on the murderer Lok
The foe the accuser whom though gods we hate
Be strictly cared for in the appointed day
Meanwhile to-morrow when the morning dawns
Bring wood to the seashore to Balder ship
And on the deck build high a funeral pile
And on the top lay Balder corpse and put
Fire to the wood and send him out to sea
To burn for that is what the dead desire
So spake the king of gods and straightway rose
And mounted his horse Sleipner whom he rode
And from the hall of heaven he rode away
To Lidskialf and sate upon his throne
The mount from whence his eye surveys the world
And far from heaven he turned his shining orbs
To look on Midgard and the earth and men
And on the conjuring Lapps he bent his gaze
Whom antlered reindeer pull over the snow
And on the Finns the gentlest of mankind
Fair men who live in holes under the ground
Nor did he look once more to Ida plain
Nor toward Valhalla and the sorrowing gods
For well he knew the gods would heed his word
And cease to mourn and think of Balder pyre
But in Valhalla all the gods went back
From around Balder all the heroes went
And left his body stretched upon the floor
And on their golden chairs they sate again
Beside the tables in the hall of heaven
And before each the cooks who served them placed
New messes of the boar Serimner flesh
And the Valkyries crowned their horns with mead
So they with pent-up hearts and tearless eyes
Wailing no more in silence ate and drank
While twilight fell and sacred night came on
But the blind Hoder left the feasting gods
In Odin hall and went through Asgard streets
And past the haven where the gods have moored
Their ships and through the gate beyond the wall
Though sightless yet his own mind led the god
Down to the margin of the roaring sea
He came and sadly went along the sand
Between the waves and black o'erhanging cliffs
Where in and out the screaming seafowl fly
Until he came to where a gully breaks
Through the cliff-wall and a fresh stream runs down
From the high moors behind and meets the sea
There in the glen Fensaler stands the house
Of Frea honored mother of the gods
And shows its lighted windows to the main
There he went up and passed the open doors
And in the hall he found those women old
The prophetesses who by rite eterne
On Frea hearth feed high the sacred fire
Both night and day and by the inner wall
Upon her golden chair the mother sate
With folded hands revolving things to come
To her drew Hoder near and spake and said 
Mother a child of bale thou bar'st in me
For first thou barest me with blinded eyes
Sightless and helpless wandering weak in heaven
And after that of ignorant witless mind
Thou barest me and unforeseeing soul
That I alone must take the branch from Lok
The foe the accuser whom though gods we hate
And cast it at the dear-loved Balder breast
At whom the gods in sport their weapons threw
'Gainst that alone had Balder life no charm
Now therefore what to attempt or whither fly
For who will bear my hateful sight in heaven
Can I O mother bring them Balder back
Or for thou know'st the fates and things allowed 
Can I with Hela power a compact strike
And make exchange and give my life for his
He spoke the mother of the gods replied 
Hoder ill-fated child of bale my son
Sightless in soul and eye what words are these
That one long portioned with his doom of death
Should change his lot and fill another life
And Hela yield to this and let him go
On Balder Death hath laid her hand not thee
Nor doth she count this life a price for that
For many gods in heaven not thou alone
Would freely die to purchase Balder back
And wend themselves to Hela gloomy realm
For not so gladsome is that life in heaven
Which gods and heroes lead in feast and fray
Waiting the darkness of the final times
That one should grudge its loss for Balder sake 
Balder their joy so bright so loved a god
But fate withstands and laws forbid this way
Yet in my secret mind one way I know
Nor do I judge if it shall win or fail
But much must still be tried which shall but fail
And the blind Hoder answered her and said 
What way is this O mother that thou show'st
Is it a matter which a god might try
And straight the mother of the gods replied 
There is a way which leads to Hela realm
Untrodden lonely far from light and heaven
Who goes that way must take no other horse
To ride but Sleipner Odin horse alone
Nor must he choose that common path of gods
Which every day they come and go in heaven
O'er the bridge Bifrost where is Heimdall watch
Past Midgard fortress down to earth and men
But he must tread a dark untravelled road
Which branches from the north of heaven and ride
Nine days nine nights toward the northern ice
Through valleys deep-ingulfed with roaring streams
And he will reach on the tenth morn a bridge
Which spans with golden arches Giall stream
Not Bifrost but that bridge a damsel keeps
Who tells the passing troops of dead their way
To the low shore of ghosts and Hela realm
And she will bid him northward steer his course
Then he will journey through no lighted land
Nor see the sun arise nor see it set
But he must ever watch the northern Bear
Who from her frozen height with jealous eye
Confronts the Dog and Hunter in the south
And is alone not dipt in ocean stream
And straight he will come down to ocean strand 
Ocean whose watery ring infolds the world
And on whose marge the ancient giants dwell
But he will reach its unknown northern shore
Far far beyond the outmost giant home
At the chinked fields of ice the wastes of snow
And he must fare across the dismal ice
Northward until he meets a stretching wall
Barring his way and in the wall a grate
But then he must dismount and on the ice
Tighten the girths of Sleipner Odin horse
And make him leap the grate and come within
And he will see stretch round him Hela realm
The plains of Niflheim where dwell the dead
And hear the roaring of the streams of hell
And he will see the feeble shadowy tribes
And Balder sitting crowned and Hela throne
Then must he not regard the wailful ghosts
Who all will flit like eddying leaves around
But he must straight accost their solemn queen
And pay her homage and entreat with prayers
Telling her all that grief they have in heaven
For Balder whom she holds by right below
If haply he may melt her heart with words
And make her yield and give him Balder back
She spoke but Hoder answered her and said 
Mother a dreadful way is this thou show'st
No journey for a sightless god to go
And straight the mother of the gods replied 
Therefore thyself thou shalt not go my son
But he whom first thou meetest when thou com'st
To Asgard and declar'st this hidden way
Shall go and I will be his guide unseen
She spoke and on her face let fall her veil
And bowed her head and sate with folded hands
But at the central hearth those women old
Who while the mother spake had ceased their toil
Began again to heap the sacred fire
And Hoder turned and left his mother house
Fensaler whose lit windows look to sea
And came again down to the roaring waves
And back along the beach to Asgard went
Pondering on that which Frea said should be
But night came down and darkened Asgard streets
Then from their loathed feast the gods arose
And lighted torches and took up the corpse
Of Balder from the floor of Odin hall
And laid it on a bier and bare him home
Through the fast-darkening streets to his own house
Breidablik on whose columns Balder graved
The enchantments that recall the dead to life
For wise he was and many curious arts
Postures of runes and healing herbs he knew
Unhappy but that art he did not know
To keep his own life safe and see the sun
There to his hall the gods brought Balder home
And each bespake him as he laid him down 
Would that ourselves O Balder we were borne
Home to our halls with torchlight by our kin
So thou might'st live and still delight the gods
They spake and each went home to his own house
But there was one the first of all the gods
For speed and Hermod was his name in heaven
Most fleet he was but now he went the last
Heavy in heart for Balder to his house
Which he in Asgard built him there to dwell
Against the harbor by the city-wall
Him the blind Hoder met as he came up
From the sea cityward and knew his step
Nor yet could Hermod see his brother face
For it grew dark but Hoder touched his arm
And as a spray of honeysuckle-flowers
Brushes across a tired traveller face
Who shuffles through the deep dew-moistened dust
On a May evening in the darkened lanes
And starts him that he thinks a ghost went by 
So Hoder brushed by Hermod side and said 
Take Sleipner Hermod and set forth with dawn
To Hela kingdom to ask Balder back
And they shall be thy guides who have the power
He spake and brushed soft by and disappeared
And Hermod gazed into the night and said 
Who is it utters through the dark his best
So quickly and will wait for no reply
The voice was like the unhappy Hoder voice
Howbeit I will see and do his hest
For there rang note divine in that command
So speaking the fleet-footed Hermod came
Home and lay down to sleep in his own house
And all the gods lay down in their own homes
And Hoder too came home distraught with grief
Loathing to meet at dawn the other gods
And he went in and shut the door and fixed
His sword upright and fell on it and died
But from the hill of Lidskialf Odin rose 
The throne from which his eye surveys the world 
And mounted Sleipner and in darkness rode
To Asgard And the stars came out in heaven
High over Asgard to light home the king
But fiercely Odin galloped moved in heart
And swift to Asgard to the gate he came
And terribly the hoofs of Sleipner rang
Along the flinty floor of Asgard streets
And the gods trembled on their golden beds
Hearing the wrathful Father coming home 
For dread for like a whirlwind Odin came
And to Valhalla gate he rode and left
Sleipner and Sleipner went to his own stall
And in Valhalla Odin laid him down
But in Breidablik Nanna Balder wife
Came with the goddesses who wrought her will
And stood by Balder lying on his bier
And at his head and feet she stationed scalds
Who in their lives were famous for their song
These o'er the corpse intoned a plaintive strain
A dirge and Nanna and her train replied
And far into the night they wailed their dirge
But when their souls were satisfied with wail
They went and laid them down and Nanna went
Into an upper chamber and lay down
And Frea sealed her tired lids with sleep
And 'twas when night is bordering hard on dawn
When air is chilliest and the stars sunk low
Then Balder spirit through the gloom drew near
In garb in form in feature as he was
Alive and still the rays were round his head
Which were his glorious mark in heaven he stood
Over against the curtain of the bed
And gazed on Nanna as she slept and spake 
Poor lamb thou sleepest and forgett'st thy woe
Tears stand upon the lashes of thine eyes
Tears wet the pillow by thy cheek but thou
Like a young child hast cried thyself to sleep
Sleep on I watch thee and am here to aid
Alive I kept not far from thee dear soul
Neither do I neglect thee now though dead
For with to-morrow dawn the gods prepare
To gather wood and build a funeral-pile
Upon my ship and burn my corpse with fire
That sad sole honor of the dead and thee
They think to burn and all my choicest wealth
With me for thus ordains the common rite
But it shall not be so but mild but swift
But painless shall a stroke from Frea come
To cut thy thread of life and free thy soul
And they shall burn thy corpse with mine not thee
And well I know that by no stroke of death
Tardy or swift wouldst thou be loath to die
So it restored thee Nanna to my side
Whom thou so well hast loved but I can smooth
Thy way and this at least my prayers avail
Yes and I fain would altogether ward
Death from thy head and with the gods in heaven
Prolong thy life though not by thee desired
But right bars this not only thy desire
Yet dreary Nanna is the life they lead
In that dim world in Hela mouldering realm
And doleful are the ghosts the troops of dead
Whom Hela with austere control presides
For of the race of gods is no one there
Save me alone and Hela solemn queen
For all the nobler souls of mortal men
On battle-field have met their death and now
Feast in Valhalla in my father hall
Only the inglorious sort are there below
The old the cowards and the weak are there 
Men spent by sickness or obscure decay
But even there O Nanna we might find
Some solace in each other look and speech
Wandering together through that gloomy world
And talking of the life we led in heaven
While we yet lived among the other gods
He spake and straight his lineaments began
To fade and Nanna in her sleep stretched out
Her arms towards him with a cry but he
Mournfully shook his head and disappeared
And as the woodman sees a little smoke
Hang in the air afield and disappear
So Balder faded in the night away
And Nanna on her bed sank back but then
Frea the mother of the gods with stroke
Painless and swift set free her airy soul
Which took on Balder track the way below
And instantly the sacred morn appeared
Forth from the east up the ascent of heaven
Day drove his courser with the shining mane
And in Valhalla from his gable-perch
The golden-crested cock began to crow
Hereafter in the blackest dead of night
With shrill and dismal cries that bird shall crow
Warning the gods that foes draw nigh to heaven
But now he crew at dawn a cheerful note
To wake the gods and heroes to their tasks
And all the gods and all the heroes woke
And from their beds the heroes rose and donned
Their arms and led their horses from the stall
And mounted them and in Valhalla court
Were ranged and then the daily fray began
And all day long they there are hacked and hewn
'Mid dust and groans and limbs lopped off and blood
But all at night return to Odin hall
Woundless and fresh such lot is theirs in heaven
And the Valkyries on their steeds went forth
Toward earth and fights of men and at their side
Skulda the youngest of the Nornies rode
And over Bifrost where is Heimdall watch
Past Midgard fortress down to earth they came
There through some battle-field where men fall fast
Their horses fetlock-deep in blood they ride
And pick the bravest warriors out for death
Whom they bring back with them at night to heaven
To glad the gods and feast in Odin hall
But the gods went not now as otherwhile
Into the tilt-yard where the heroes fought
To feast their eyes with looking on the fray
Nor did they to their judgment-place repair
By the ash Igdrasil in Ida plain
Where they hold council and give laws for men
But they went Odin first the rest behind
To the hall Gladheim which is built of gold
Where are in circle ranged twelve golden chairs
And in the midst one higher Odin throne
There all the gods in silence sate them down
And thus the Father of the ages spake 
Go quickly gods bring wood to the seashore
With all which it beseems the dead to have
And make a funeral-pile on Balder ship
On the twelfth day the gods shall burn his corpse
But Hermod thou take Sleipner and ride down
To Hela kingdom to ask Balder back
So said he and the gods arose and took
Axes and ropes and at their head came Thor
Shouldering his hammer which the giants know
Forth wended they and drave their steeds before
And up the dewy mountain tracks they fared
To the dark forests in the early dawn
And up and down and side and slant they roamed
And from the glens all day an echo came
Of crashing falls for with his hammer Thor
Smote 'mid the rocks the lichen-bearded pines
And burst their roots while to their tops the gods
Made fast the woven ropes and haled them down
And lopped their boughs and clove them on the sward
And bound the logs behind their steeds to draw
And drave them homeward and the snorting steeds
Went straining through the crackling brushwood down
And by the darkling forest-paths the gods
Followed and on their shoulders carried boughs
And they came out upon the plain and passed
Asgard and led their horses to the beach
And loosed them of their loads on the seashore
And ranged the wood in stacks by Balder ship
And every god went home to his own house
But when the gods were to the forest gone
Hermod led Sleipner from Valhalla forth
And saddled him before that Sleipner brooked
No meaner hand than Odin on his mane
On his broad back no lesser rider bore
Yet docile now he stood at Hermod side
Arching his neck and glad to be bestrode
Knowing the god they went to seek how dear
But Hermod mounted him and sadly fared
In silence up the dark untravelled road
Which branches from the north of heaven and went
All day and daylight waned and night came on
And all that night he rode and journeyed so
Nine days nine nights toward the northern ice
Through valleys deep-ingulfed by roaring streams
And on the tenth morn he beheld the bridge
Which spans with golden arches Giall stream
And on the bridge a damsel watching armed
In the strait passage at the farther end
Where the road issues between walling rocks
Scant space that warder left for passers-by
But as when cowherds in October drive
Their kine across a snowy mountain pass
To winter pasture on the southern side
And on the ridge a wagon chokes the way
Wedged in the snow then painfully the hinds
With goad and shouting urge their cattle past
Plunging through deep untrodden banks of snow
To right and left and warm steam fills the air 
So on the bridge that damsel blocked the way
And questioned Hermod as he came and said 
Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse
Under whose hoofs the bridge o'er Giall stream
Rumbles and shakes Tell me thy race and home
But yester-morn five troops of dead passed by
Bound on their way below to Hela realm
Nor shook the bridge so much as thou alone
And thou hast flesh and color on thy cheeks
Like men who live and draw the vital air
Nor look'st thou pale and wan like men deceased
Souls bound below my daily passers here
And the fleet-footed Hermod answered her 
O damsel Hermod am I called the son
Of Odin and my high-roofed house is built
Far hence in Asgard in the city of gods
And Sleipner Odin horse is this I ride
And I come sent this road on Balder track
Say then if he hath crossed thy bridge or no
He spake the warder of the bridge replied 
O Hermod rarely do the feet of gods
Or of the horses of the gods resound
Upon my bridge and when they cross I know
Balder hath gone this way and ta'en the road
Below there to the north toward Hela realm
From here the cold white mist can be discerned
Not lit with sun but through the darksome air
By the dim vapor-blotted light of stars
Which hangs over the ice where lies the road
For in that ice are lost those northern streams
Freezing and ridging in their onward flow
Which from the fountain of Vergelmer run
The spring that bubbles up by Hela throne
There are the joyless seats the haunt of ghosts
Hela pale swarms and there was Balder bound
Ride on pass free but he by this is there
She spake and stepped aside and left him room
And Hermod greeted her and galloped by
Across the bridge then she took post again
But northward Hermod rode the way below
And o'er a darksome tract which knows no sun
But by the blotted light of stars he fared
And he came down to ocean northern strand
At the drear ice beyond the giants' home
Thence on he journeyed o'er the fields of ice
Still north until he met a stretching wall
Barring his way and in the wall a grate
Then he dismounted and drew tight the girths
On the smooth ice of Sleipner Odin horse
And made him leap the grate and came within
And he beheld spread round him Hela realm
The plains of Niflheim where dwell the dead
And heard the thunder of the streams of hell
For near the wall the river of Roaring flows
Outmost the others near the centre run 
The Storm the Abyss the Howling and the Pain
These flow by Hela throne and near their spring
And from the dark flocked up the shadowy tribes
And as the swallows crowd the bulrush-beds
Of some clear river issuing from a lake
On autumn-days before they cross the sea
And to each bulrush-crest a swallow hangs
Swinging and others skim the river-streams
And their quick twittering fills the banks and shores 
So around Hermod swarmed the twittering ghosts
Women and infants and young men who died
Too soon for fame with white ungraven shields
And old men known to glory but their star
Betrayed them and of wasting age they died
Not wounds yet dying they their armor wore
And now have chief regard in Hela realm
Behind flocked wrangling up a piteous crew
Greeted of none disfeatured and forlorn 
Cowards who were in sloughs interred alive
And round them still the wattled hurdles hung
Wherewith they stamped them down and trod them deep
To hide their shameful memory from men
But all he passed unhailed and reached the throne
Of Hela and saw near it Balder crowned
And Hela set thereon with countenance stern
And thus bespake him first the solemn queen 
Unhappy how hast thou endured to leave
The light and journey to the cheerless land
Where idly flit about the feeble shades
How didst thou cross the bridge o'er Giall stream
Being alive and come to ocean shore
Or how o'erleap the grate that bars the wall
She spake but down off Sleipner Hermod sprang
And fell before her feet and clasped her knees
And spake and mild entreated her and said 
O Hela wherefore should the gods declare
Their errands to each other or the ways
They go the errand and the way is known
Thou know'st thou know'st what grief we have in heaven
For Balder whom thou hold'st by right below
Restore him for what part fulfils he here
Shall he shed cheer over the cheerless seats
And touch the apathetic ghosts with joy
Not for such end O queen thou hold'st thy realm
For heaven was Balder born the city of gods
And heroes where they live in light and joy
Thither restore him for his place is there
He spoke and grave replied the solemn queen 
Hermod for he thou art thou son of heaven
A strange unlikely errand sure is thine
Do the gods send to me to make them blest
Small bliss my race hath of the gods obtained
Three mighty children to my father Lok
Did Angerbode the giantess bring forth 
Fenris the wolf the serpent huge and me
Of these the serpent in the sea ye cast
Who since in your despite hath waxed amain
And now with gleaming ring infolds the world
Me on this cheerless nether world ye threw
And gave me nine unlighted realms to rule
While on his island in the lake afar
Made fast to the bored crag by wile not strength
Subdued with limber chains lives Fenris bound
Lok still subsists in heaven our father wise
Your mate though loathed and feasts in Odin hall
But him too foes await and netted snares
And in a cave a bed of needle-rocks
And o'er his visage serpents dropping gall
Yet he shall one day rise and burst his bonds
And with himself set us his offspring free
When he guides Muspel children to their bourne
Till then in peril or in pain we live
Wrought by the gods and ask the gods our aid
Howbeit we abide our day till then
We do not as some feebler haters do 
Seek to afflict our foes with petty pangs
Helpless to better us or ruin them
Come then if Balder was so dear beloved
And this is true and such a loss is heaven 
Hear how to heaven may Balder be restored
Show me through all the world the signs of grief
Fails but one thing to grieve here Balder stops
Let all that lives and moves upon the earth
Weep him and all that is without life weep
Let gods men brutes beweep him plants and stones
So shall I know the lost was dear indeed
And bend my heart and give him back to heaven
She spake and Hermod answered her and said 
Hela such as thou say'st the terms shall be
But come declare me this and truly tell
May I ere I depart bid Balder hail
Or is it here withheld to greet the dead
He spake and straightway Hela answered him 
Hermod greet Balder if thou wilt and hold
Converse his speech remains though he be dead
And straight to Balder Hermod turned and spake
Even in the abode of death O Balder hail
Thou hear'st if hearing like as speech is thine
The terms of thy releasement hence to heaven
Fear nothing but that all shall be fulfilled
For not unmindful of thee are the gods
Who see the light and blest in Asgard dwell
Even here they seek thee out in Hela realm
And sure of all the happiest far art thou
Who ever have been known in earth or heaven
Alive thou wast of gods the most beloved
And now thou sittest crowned by Hela side
Here and hast honor among all the dead
He spake and Balder uttered him reply
But feebly as a voice far off he said 
Hermod the nimble gild me not my death
Better to live a serf a captured man
Who scatters rushes in a master hall
Than be a crowned king here and rule the dead
And now I count not of these terms as safe
To be fulfilled nor my return as sure
Though I be loved and many mourn my death
For double-minded ever was the seed
Of Lok and double are the gifts they give
Howbeit report thy message and therewith
To Odin to my father take this ring
Memorial of me whether saved or no
And tell the heaven-born gods how thou hast seen
Me sitting here below by Hela side
Crowned having honor among all the dead
He spake and raised his hand and gave the ring
And with inscrutable regard the queen
Of hell beheld them and the ghosts stood dumb
But Hermod took the ring and yet once more
Kneeled and did homage to the solemn queen
Then mounted Sleipner and set forth to ride
Back through the astonished tribes of dead to heaven
And to the wall he came and found the grate
Lifted and issued on the fields of ice
And o'er the ice he fared to ocean strand
And up from thence a wet and misty road
To the armed damsel bridge and Giall stream
Worse was that way to go than to return
For him for others all return is barred
Nine days he took to go two to return
And on the twelfth morn saw the light of heaven
And as a traveller in the early dawn
To the steep edge of some great valley comes
Through which a river flows and sees beneath
Clouds of white rolling vapors fill the vale
But o'er them on the farther slope descries
Vineyards and crofts and pastures bright with sun 
So Hermod o'er the fog between saw heaven
And Sleipner snorted for he smelt the air
Of heaven and mightily as winged he flew
And Hermod saw the towers of Asgard rise
And he drew near and heard no living voice
In Asgard and the golden halls were dumb
Then Hermod knew what labor held the gods
And through the empty streets he rode and passed
Under the gate-house to the sands and found
The gods on the seashore by Balder ship
The gods held talk together grouped in knots
Round Balder corpse which they had thither borne
And Hermod came down towards them from the gate
And Lok the father of the serpent first
Beheld him come and to his neighbor spake 
See here is Hermod who comes single back
From hell and shall I tell thee how he seems
Like as a farmer who hath lost his dog
Some morn at market in a crowded town 
Through many streets the poor beast runs in vain
And follows this man after that for hours
And late at evening spent and panting falls
Before a stranger threshold not his home
With flanks a-tremble and his slender tongue
Hangs quivering out between his dust-smeared jaws
And piteously he eyes the passers-by
But home his master comes to his own farm
Far in the country wondering where he is 
So Hermod comes to-day unfollowed home
And straight his neighbor moved with wrath replied 
Deceiver fair in form but false in heart
Enemy mocker whom though gods we hate 
Peace lest our father Odin hear thee gibe
Would I might see him snatch thee in his hand
And bind thy carcass like a bale with cords
And hurl thee in a lake to sink or swim
If clear from plotting Balder death to swim
But deep if thou devisedst it to drown
And perish against fate before thy day
So they two soft to one another spake
But Odin looked toward the land and saw
His messenger and he stood forth and cried
And Hermod came and leapt from Sleipner down
And in his father hand put Sleipner rein
And greeted Odin and the gods and said 
Odin my father and ye gods of heaven
Lo home having performed your will I come
Into the joyless kingdom have I been
Below and looked upon the shadowy tribes
Of ghosts and communed with their solemn queen
And to your prayer she sends you this reply 
Show her through all the world the signs of grief
Fails but one thing to grieve there Balder stops
Let gods men brutes beweep him plants and stones
So shall she know your loss was dear indeed
And bend her heart and give you Balder back
He spoke and all the gods to Odin looked
And straight the Father of the ages said 
Ye gods these terms may keep another day
But now put on your arms and mount your steeds
And in procession all come near and weep
Balder for that is what the dead desire
When ye enough have wept then build a pile
Of the heaped wood and burn his corpse with fire
Out of our sight that we may turn from grief
And lead as erst our daily life in heaven
He spoke and the gods armed and Odin donned
His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold
And led the way on Sleipner and the rest
Followed in tears their father and their king
And thrice in arms around the dead they rode
Weeping the sands were wetted and their arms
With their thick-falling tears so good a friend
They mourned that day so bright so loved a god
And Odin came and laid his kingly hands
On Balder breast and thus began the wail 
Farewell O Balder bright and loved my son
In that great day the twilight of the gods
When Muspel children shall beleaguer heaven
Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm
Thou camest near the next O warrior Thor
Shouldering thy hammer in thy chariot drawn
Swaying the long-haired goats with silvered rein
And over Balder corpse these words didst say 
Brother thou dwellest in the darksome land
And talkest with the feeble tribes of ghosts
Now and I know not how they prize thee there 
But here I know thou wilt be missed and mourned
For haughty spirits and high wraths are rife
Among the gods and heroes here in heaven
As among those whose joy and work is war
And daily strifes arise and angry words
But from thy lips O Balder night or day
Heard no one ever an injurious word
To god or hero but thou keptest back
The others laboring to compose their brawls
Be ye then kind as Balder too was kind
For we lose him who smoothed all strife in heaven
He spake and all the gods assenting wailed
And Freya next came nigh with golden tears
The loveliest goddess she in heaven by all
Most honored after Frea Odin wife
Her long ago the wandering Oder took
To mate but left her to roam distant lands
Since then she seeks him and weeps tears of gold
Names hath she many Vanadis on earth
They call her Freya is her name in heaven
She in her hands took Balder head and spake 
Balder my brother thou art gone a road
Unknown and long and haply on that way
My long-lost wandering Oder thou hast met
For in the paths of heaven he is not found
Oh if it be so tell him what thou wast
To his neglected wife and what he is
And wring his heart with shame to hear thy word
For he my husband left me here to pine
Not long a wife when his unquiet heart
First drove him from me into distant lands
Since then I vainly seek him through the world
And weep from shore to shore my golden tears
But neither god nor mortal heeds my pain
Thou only Balder wast forever kind
To take my hand and wipe my tears and say 
Weep not O Freya weep no golden tears
One day the wandering Oder will return
Or thou wilt find him in thy faithful search
On some great road or resting in an inn
Or at a ford or sleeping by a tree
So Balder said but Oder well I know
My truant Oder I shall see no more
To the world end and Balder now is gone
And I am left uncomforted in heaven
She spake and all the goddesses bewailed
Last from among the heroes one came near
No god but of the hero-troop the chief 
Regner who swept the northern sea with fleets
And ruled o'er Denmark and the heathy isles
Living but Ella captured him and slew 
A king whose fame then filled the vast of heaven
Now time obscures it and men later deeds
He last approached the corpse and spake and said 
Balder there yet are many scalds in heaven
Still left and that chief scald thy brother Brage
Whom we may bid to sing though thou art gone
And all these gladly while we drink we hear
After the feast is done in Odin hall
But they harp ever on one string and wake
Remembrance in our soul of wars alone
Such as on earth we valiantly have waged
And blood and ringing blows and violent death
But when thou sangest Balder thou didst strike
Another note and like a bird in spring
Thy voice of joyance minded us and youth
And wife and children and our ancient home
Yes and I too remembered then no more
My dungeon where the serpents stung me dead
Nor Ella victory on the English coast
But I heard Thora laugh in Gothland Isle
And saw my shepherdess Aslauga tend
Her flock along the white Norwegian beach
Tears started to mine eyes with yearning joy
Therefore with grateful heart I mourn thee dead
So Regner spake and all the heroes groaned
But now the sun had passed the height of heaven
And soon had all that day been spent in wail
But then the Father of the ages said 
Ye gods there well may be too much of wail
Bring now the gathered wood to Balder ship
Heap on the deck the logs and build the pyre
But when the gods and heroes heard they brought
The wood to Balder ship and built a pile
Full the deck breadth and lofty then the corpse
Of Balder on the highest top they laid
With Nanna on his right and on his left
Hoder his brother whom his own hand slew
And they set jars of wine and oil to lean
Against the bodies and stuck torches near
Splinters of pine-wood soaked with turpentine
And brought his arms and gold and all his stuff
And slew the dogs who at his table fed
And his horse Balder horse whom most he loved
And threw them on the pyre and Odin threw
A last choice gift thereon his golden ring
The mast they fixed and hoisted up the sails
Then they put fire to the wood and Thor
Set his stout shoulder hard against the stern
To push the ship through the thick sand sparks flew
From the deep trench she ploughed so strong a god
Furrowed it and the water gurgled in
And the ship floated on the waves and rocked
But in the hills a strong east-wind arose
And came down moaning to the sea first squalls
Ran black o'er the sea face then steady rushed
The breeze and filled the sails and blew the fire
And wreathed in smoke the ship stood out to sea
Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire
And the pile crackled and between the logs
Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out and leapt
Curling and darting higher until they licked
The summit of the pile the dead the mast
And ate the shrivelling sails but still the ship
Drove on ablaze above her hull with fire
And the gods stood upon the beach and gazed
And while they gazed the sun went lurid down
Into the smoke-wrapt sea and night came on
Then the wind fell with night and there was calm
But through the dark they watched the burning ship
Still carried o'er the distant waters on
Farther and farther like an eye of fire
And long in the far dark blazed Balder pile
But fainter as the stars rose high it flared
The bodies were consumed ash choked the pile
And as in a decaying winter-fire
A charred log falling makes a shower of sparks 
So with a shower of sparks the pile fell in
Reddening the sea around and all was dark
But the gods went by starlight up the shore
To Asgard and sate down in Odin hall
At table and the funeral-feast began
All night they ate the boar Serimner flesh
And from their horns with silver rimmed drank mead
Silent and waited for the sacred morn
And morning over all the world was spread
Then from their loathed feast the gods arose
And took their horses and set forth to ride
O'er the bridge Bifrost where is Heimdall watch
To the ash Igdrasil and Ida plain
Thor came on foot the rest on horseback rode
And they found Mimir sitting by his fount
Of wisdom which beneath the ash-tree springs
And saw the Nornies watering the roots
Of that world-shadowing tree with honey-dew
There came the gods and sate them down on stones
And thus the Father of the ages said 
Ye gods the terms ye know which Hermod brought
Accept them or reject them both have grounds
Accept them and they bind us unfulfilled
To leave forever Balder in the grave
An unrecovered prisoner shade with shades
But how ye say should the fulfilment fail 
Smooth sound the terms and light to be fulfilled
For dear-beloved was Balder while he lived
In heaven and earth and who would grudge him tears
But from the traitorous seed of Lok they come
These terms and I suspect some hidden fraud
Bethink ye gods is there no other way
Speak were not this a way the way for gods 
If I if Odin clad in radiant arms
Mounted on Sleipner with the warrior Thor
Drawn in his car beside me and my sons
All the strong brood of heaven to swell my train
Should make irruption into Hela realm
And set the fields of gloom ablaze with light
And bring in triumph Balder back to heaven
He spake and his fierce sons applauded loud
But Frea mother of the gods arose
Daughter and wife of Odin thus she said 
Odin thou whirlwind what a threat is this
Thou threatenest what transcends thy might even thine
For of all powers the mightiest far art thou
Lord over men on earth and gods in heaven
Yet even from thee thyself hath been withheld
One thing to undo what thou thyself hast ruled
For all which hath been fixed was fixed by thee
In the beginning ere the gods were born
Before the heavens were builded thou didst slay
The giant Ymir whom the abyss brought forth 
Thou and thy brethren fierce the sons of Bor 
And cast his trunk to choke the abysmal void
But of his flesh and members thou didst build
The earth and ocean and above them heaven
And from the flaming world where Muspel reigns
Thou sent'st and fetchedst fire and madest lights
Sun moon and stars which thou hast hung in heaven
Dividing clear the paths of night and day
And Asgard thou didst build and Midgard fort
Then me thou mad'st of us the gods were born
Last walking by the sea thou foundest spars
Of wood and framedst men who till the earth
Or on the sea the field of pirates sail
And all the race of Ymir thou didst drown
Save one Bergelmer he on shipboard fled
Thy deluge and from him the giants sprang
But all that brood thou hast removed far off
And set by ocean utmost marge to dwell
But Hela into Niflheim thou threw'st
And gav'st her nine unlighted worlds to rule
A queen and empire over all the dead
That empire wilt thou now invade light up
Her darkness from her grasp a subject tear
Try it but I for one will not applaud
Nor do I merit Odin thou shouldst slight
Me and my words though thou be first in heaven
For I too am a goddess born of thee
Thine eldest and of me the gods are sprung
And all that is to come I know but lock
In mine own breast and have to none revealed
Come then since Hela holds by right her prey
But offers terms for his release to heaven
Accept the chance thou canst no more obtain
Send through the world thy messengers entreat
All living and unliving things to weep
For Balder if thou haply thus may'st melt
Hela and win the loved one back to heaven
She spake and on her face let fall her veil
And bowed her head and sate with folded hands
Nor did the all-ruling Odin slight her word
Straightway he spake and thus addressed the gods 
Go quickly forth through all the world and pray
All living and unliving things to weep
Balder if haply he may thus be won
When the gods heard they straight arose and took
Their horses and rode forth through all the world
North south east west they struck and roamed the world
Entreating all things to weep Balder death
And all that lived and all without life wept
And as in winter when the frost breaks up
At winter end before the spring begins
And a warm west-wind blows and thaw sets in
After an hour a dripping sound is heard
In all the forests and the soft-strewn snow
Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes
And from the boughs the snow-loads shuffle down
And in fields sloping to the south dark plots
Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow
And widen and the peasant heart is glad 
So through the world was heard a dripping noise
Of all things weeping to bring Balder back
And there fell joy upon the gods to hear
But Hermod rode with Niord whom he took
To show him spits and beaches of the sea
Far off where some unwarned might fail to weep 
Niord the god of storms whom fishers know
Not born in heaven he was in Vanheim reared
With men but lives a hostage with the gods
He knows each frith and every rocky creek
Fringed with dark pines and sands where seafowl scream 
They two scoured every coast and all things wept
And they rode home together through the wood
Of Jarnvid which to east of Midgard lies
Bordering the giants where the trees are iron
There in the wood before a cave they came
Where sate in the cave mouth a skinny hag
Toothless and old she gibes the passers-by
Thok is she called but now Lok wore her shape
She greeted them the first and laughed and said 
Ye gods good lack is it so dull in heaven
That ye come pleasuring to Thok iron wood
Lovers of change ye are fastidious sprites
Look as in some boor yard a sweet-breathed cow
Whose manger is stuffed full of good fresh hay
Snuffs at it daintily and stoops her head
To chew the straw her litter at her feet 
So ye grow squeamish gods and sniff at heaven
She spake but Hermod answered her and said 
Thok not for gibes we come we come for tears
Balder is dead and Hela holds her prey
But will restore if all things give him tears
Begrudge not thine to all was Balder dear
Then with a louder laugh the hag replied 
Is Balder dead and do ye come for tears
Thok with dry eyes will weep o'er Balder pyre
Weep him all other things if weep they will
I weep him not let Hela keep her prey
She spake and to the cavern depth she fled
Mocking and Hermod knew their toil was vain
And as seafaring men who long have wrought
In the great deep for gain at last come home
And towards evening see the headlands rise
Of their dear country and can plain descry
A fire of withered furze which boys have lit
Upon the cliffs or smoke of burning weeds
Out of a tilled field inland then the wind
Catches them and drives out again to sea
And they go long days tossing up and down
Over the gray sea-ridges and the glimpse
Of port they had makes bitterer far their toil 
So the gods' cross was bitterer for their joy
Then sad at heart to Niord Hermod spake 
It is the accuser Lok who flouts us all
Ride back and tell in heaven this heavy news
I must again below to Hela realm
He spoke and Niord set forth back to heaven
But northward Hermod rode the way below
The way he knew and traversed Giall stream
And down to ocean groped and crossed the ice
And came beneath the wall and found the grate
Still lifted well was his return foreknown
And once more Hermod saw around him spread
The joyless plains and heard the streams of hell
But as he entered on the extremest bound
Of Niflheim he saw one ghost come near
Hovering and stopping oft as if afraid 
Hoder the unhappy whom his own hand slew
And Hermod looked and knew his brother ghost
And called him by his name and sternly said 
Hoder ill-fated blind in heart and eyes
Why tarriest thou to plunge thee in the gulf
Of the deep inner gloom but flittest here
In twilight on the lonely verge of hell
Far from the other ghosts and Hela throne
Doubtless thou fearest to meet Balder voice
Thy brother whom through folly thou didst slay
He spoke but Hoder answered him and said 
Hermod the nimble dost thou still pursue
The unhappy with reproach even in the grave
For this I died and fled beneath the gloom
Not daily to endure abhorring gods
Nor with a hateful presence cumber heaven
And canst thou not even here pass pitying by
No less than Balder have I lost the light
Of heaven and communion with my kin
I too had once a wife and once a child
And substance and a golden house in heaven
But all I left of my own act and fled
Below and dost thou hate me even here
Balder upbraids me not nor hates at all
Though he has cause have any cause but he
When that with downcast looks I hither came
Stretched forth his hand and with benignant voice
Welcome he said if there be welcome here
Brother and fellow-sport of Lok with me
And not to offend thee Hermod nor to force
My hated converse on thee came I up
From the deep gloom where I will now return
But earnestly I longed to hover near
Not too far off when that thou camest by
To feel the presence of a brother god
And hear the passage of a horse of heaven
For the last time for here thou com'st no more
He spake and turned to go to the inner gloom
But Hermod stayed him with mild words and said 
Thou doest well to chide me Hoder blind
Truly thou say'st the planning guilty mind
Was Lok the unwitting hand alone was thine
But gods are like the sons of men in this
When they have woe they blame the nearest cause
Howbeit stay and be appeased and tell
Sits Balder still in pomp by Hela side
Or is he mingled with the unnumbered dead
And the blind Hoder answered him and spake 
His place of state remains by Hela side
But empty for his wife for Nanna came
Lately below and joined him and the pair
Frequent the still recesses of the realm
Of Hela and hold converse undisturbed
But they too doubtless will have breathed the balm
Which floats before a visitant from heaven
And have drawn upward to this verge of hell
He spake and as he ceased a puff of wind
Rolled heavily the leaden mist aside
Round where they stood and they beheld two forms
Make toward them o'er the stretching cloudy plain
And Hermod straight perceived them who they were 
Balder and Nanna and to Balder said 
Balder too truly thou foresaw'st a snare
Lok triumphs still and Hela keeps her prey
No more to Asgard shalt thou come nor lodge
In thy own house Breidablik nor enjoy
The love all bear toward thee nor train up
Forset thy son to be beloved like thee
Here must thou lie and wait an endless age
Therefore for the last time O Balder hail
He spake and Balder answered him and said 
Hail and farewell for here thou com'st no more
Yet mourn not for me Hermod when thou sitt'st
In heaven nor let the other gods lament
As wholly to be pitied quite forlorn
For Nanna hath rejoined me who of old
In heaven was seldom parted from my side
And still the acceptance follows me which crowned
My former life and cheers me even here
The iron frown of Hela is relaxed
When I draw nigh and the wan tribes of dead
Love me and gladly bring for my award
Their ineffectual feuds and feeble hates 
Shadows of hates but they distress them still
And the fleet-footed Hermod made reply 
Thou hast then all the solace death allows 
Esteem and function and so far is well
Yet here thou liest Balder underground
Rusting forever and the years roll on
The generations pass the ages grow
And bring us nearer to the final day
When from the south shall march the fiery band
And cross the bridge of heaven with Lok for guide
And Fenris at his heel with broken chain
While from the east the giant Rymer steers
His ship and the great serpent makes to land
And all are marshalled in one flaming square
Against the gods upon the plains of heaven
I mourn thee that thou canst not help us then
He spake but Balder answered him and said 
Mourn not for me Mourn Hermod for the gods
Mourn for the men on earth the gods in heaven
Who live and with their eyes shall see that day
The day will come when fall shall Asgard towers
And Odin and his sons the seed of heaven
But what were I to save them in that hour
If strength might save them could not Odin save
My father and his pride the warrior Thor
Vidar the silent the impetuous Tyr
I what were I when these can naught avail
Yet doubtless when the day of battle comes
And the two hosts are marshalled and in heaven
The golden-crested cock shall sound alarm
And his black brother-bird from hence reply
And bucklers clash and spears begin to pour 
Longing will stir within my breast though vain
But not to me so grievous as I know
To other gods it were is my enforced
Absence from fields where I could nothing aid
For I am long since weary of your storm
Of carnage and find Hermod in your life
Something too much of war and broils which make
Life one perpetual fight a bath of blood
Mine eyes are dizzy with the arrowy hail
Mine ears are stunned with blows and sick for calm
Inactive therefore let me lie in gloom
Unarmed inglorious I attend the course
Of ages and my late return to light
In times less alien to a spirit mild
In new-recovered seats the happier day
He spake and the fleet Hermod thus replied 
Brother what seats are these what happier day
Tell me that I may ponder it when gone
And the ray-crowned Balder answered him 
Far to the south beyond the blue there spreads
Another heaven the boundless No one yet
Hath reached it There hereafter shall arise
The second Asgard with another name
Thither when o'er this present earth and heavens
The tempest of the latter days hath swept
And they from sight have disappeared and sunk
Shall a small remnant of the gods repair
Hoder and I shall join them from the grave
There re-assembling we shall see emerge
From the bright ocean at our feet an earth
More fresh more verdant than the last with fruits
Self-springing and a seed of man preserved
Who then shall live in peace as now in war
But we in heaven shall find again with joy
The ruined palaces of Odin seats
Familiar halls where we have supped of old
Re-enter them with wonder never fill
Our eyes with gazing and rebuild with tears
And we shall tread once more the well-known plain
Of Ida and among the grass shall find
The golden dice wherewith we played of yore
And that will bring to mind the former life
And pastime of the gods the wise discourse
Of Odin the delights of other days
O Hermod pray that thou may'st join us then
Such for the future is my hope meanwhile
I rest the thrall of Hela and endure
Death and the gloom which round me even now
Thickens and to its inner gulf recalls
Farewell for longer speech is not allowed
He spoke and waved farewell and gave his hand
To Nanna and she gave their brother blind
Her hand in turn for guidance and the three
Departed o'er the cloudy plain and soon
Faded from sight into the interior gloom
But Hermod stood beside his drooping horse
Mute gazing after them in tears and fain
Fain had he followed their receding steps
Though they to death were bound and he to heaven
Then but a power he could not break withheld
And as a stork which idle boys have trapped
And tied him in a yard at autumn sees
Flocks of his kind pass flying o'er his head
To warmer lands and coasts that keep the sun
He strains to join their flight and from his shed
Follows them with a long complaining cry 
So Hermod gazed and yearned to join his kin
At last he sighed and set forth back to heaven
A year had flown and o'er the sea away
In Cornwall Tristram and Queen Iseult lay
In King Marc chapel in Tyntagel old
There in a ship they bore those lovers cold
The young surviving Iseult one bright day
Had wandered forth Her children were at play
In a green circular hollow in the heath
Which borders the seashore a country path
Creeps over it from the tilled fields behind
The hollow grassy banks are soft-inclined
And to one standing on them far and near
The lone unbroken view spreads bright and clear
Over the waste This cirque of open ground
Is light and green the heather which all round
Creeps thickly grows not here but the pale grass
Is strewn with rocks and many a shivered mass
Of veined white-gleaming quartz and here and there
Dotted with holly-trees and juniper
In the smooth centre of the opening stood
Three hollies side by side and made a screen
Warm with the winter-sun of burnished green
With scarlet berries gemmed the fell-fare food
Under the glittering hollies Iseult stands
Watching her children play their little hands
Are busy gathering spars of quartz and streams
Of stagshorn for their hats anon with screams
Of mad delight they drop their spoils and bound
Among the holly-clumps and broken ground
Racing full speed and startling in their rush
The fell-fares and the speckled missel-thrush
Out of their glossy coverts but when now
Their cheeks were flushed and over each hot brow
Under the feathered hats of the sweet pair
In blinding masses showered the golden hair
Then Iseult called them to her and the three
Clustered under the holly-screen and she
Told them an old-world Breton history
Warm in their mantles wrapped the three stood there
Under the hollies in the clear still air 
Mantles with those rich furs deep glistering
Which Venice ships do from swart Egypt bring
Long they stayed still then pacing at their ease
Moved up and down under the glossy trees
But still as they pursued their warm dry road
From Iseult lips the unbroken story flowed
And still the children listened their blue eyes
Fixed on their mother face in wide surprise
Nor did their looks stray once to the sea-side
Nor to the brown heaths round them bright and wide
Nor to the snow which though 'twas all away
From the open heath still by the hedgerows lay
Nor to the shining sea-fowl that with screams
Bore up from where the bright Atlantic gleams
Swooping to landward nor to where quite clear
The fell-fares settled on the thickets near
And they would still have listened till dark night
Came keen and chill down on the heather bright
But when the red glow on the sea grew cold
And the gray turrets of the castle old
Looked sternly through the frosty evening-air
Then Iseult took by the hand those children fair
And brought her tale to an end and found the path
And led them home over the darkening heath
And is she happy Does she see unmoved
The days in which she might have lived and loved
Slip without bringing bliss slowly away
One after one to-morrow like to-day
Joy has not found her yet nor ever will
Is it this thought which makes her mien so still
Her features so fatigued her eyes though sweet
So sunk so rarely lifted save to meet
Her children She moves slow her voice alone
Hath yet an infantine and silver tone
But even that comes languidly in truth
She seems one dying in a mask of youth
And now she will go home and softly lay
Her laughing children in their beds and play
A while with them before they sleep and then
She'll light her silver lamp which fishermen
Dragging their nets through the rough waves afar
Along this iron coast know like a star 
And take her broidery-frame and there she'll sit
Hour after hour her gold curls sweeping it
Lifting her soft-bent head only to mind
Her children or to listen to the wind
And when the clock peals midnight she will move
Her work away and let her fingers rove
Across the shaggy brows of Tristram hound
Who lies guarding her feet along the ground
Or else she will fall musing her blue eyes
Fixed her slight hands clasped on her lap then rise
And at her prie-dieu kneel until she have told
Her rosary-beads of ebony tipped with gold
Then to her soft sleep and to-morrow'll be
To-day exact repeated effigy
Yes it is lonely for her in her hall
The children and the gray-haired seneschal
Her women and Sir Tristram aged hound
Are there the sole companions to be found
But these she loves and noisier life than this
She would find ill to bear weak as she is
She has her children too and night and day
Is with them and the wide heaths where they play
The hollies and the cliff and the sea-shore
The sand the sea-birds and the distant sails
These are to her dear as to them the tales
With which this day the children she beguiled
She gleaned from Breton grandames when a child
In every hut along this sea-coast wild
She herself loves them still and when they are told
Can forget all to hear them as of old
Dear saints it is not sorrow as I hear
Not suffering which shuts up eye and ear
To all that has delighted them before
And lets us be what we were once no more
No we may suffer deeply yet retain
Power to be moved and soothed for all our pain
By what of old pleased us and will again
No 'tis the gradual furnace of the world
In whose hot air our spirits are upcurled
Until they crumble or else grow like steel
Which kills in us the bloom the youth the spring
Which leaves the fierce necessity to feel
But takes away the power this can avail
By drying up our joy in every thing
To make our former pleasures all seem stale
This or some tyrannous single thought some fit
Of passion which subdues our souls to it
Till for its sake alone we live and move 
Call it ambition or remorse or love 
This too can change us wholly and make seem
All which we did before shadow and dream
And yet I swear it angers me to see
How this fool passion gulls men potently
Being in truth but a diseased unrest
And an unnatural overheat at best
How they are full of languor and distress
Not having it which when they do possess
They straightway are burnt up with fume and care
And spend their lives in posting here and there
Where this plague drives them and have little ease
Are furious with themselves and hard to please
Like that bald Caesar the famed Roman wight
Who wept at reading of a Grecian knight
Who made a name at younger years than he
Or that renowned mirror of chivalry
Prince Alexander Philip peerless son
Who carried the great war from Macedon
Into the Soudan realm and thundered on
What tale did Iseult to the children say
Under the hollies that bright winter day
She told them of the fairy-haunted land
Away the other side of Brittany
Beyond the heaths edged by the lonely sea
Of the deep forest-glades of Broce-liande
Through whose green boughs the golden sunshine creeps
Where Merlin by the enchanted thorn-tree sleeps
For here he came with the fay Vivian
One April when the warm days first began
He was on foot and that false fay his friend
On her white palfrey here he met his end
In these lone sylvan glades that April-day
This tale of Merlin and the lovely fay
Was the one Iseult chose and she brought clear
Before the children fancy him and her
Blowing between the stems the forest-air
Had loosened the brown locks of Vivian hair
Which played on her flushed cheek and her blue eyes
Sparkled with mocking glee and exercise
Her palfrey flanks were mired and bathed in sweat
For they had travelled far and not stopped yet
A brier in that tangled wilderness
Had scored her white right hand which she allows
To rest ungloved on her green riding-dress
The other warded off the drooping boughs
But still she chatted on with her blue eyes
Fixed full on Merlin face her stately prize
Her 'havior had the morning fresh clear grace
The spirit of the woods was in her face
She looked so witching fair that learned wight
Forgot his craft and his best wits took flight
And he grew fond and eager to obey
His mistress use her empire as she may
They came to where the brushwood ceased and day
Peered 'twixt the stems and the ground broke away
In a sloped sward down to a brawling brook
And up as high as where they stood to look
On the brook farther side was clear but then
The underwood and trees began again
This open glen was studded thick with thorns
Then white with blossom and you saw the horns
Through last year fern of the shy fallow-deer
Who come at noon down to the water here
You saw the bright-eyed squirrels dart along
Under the thorns on the green sward and strong
The blackbird whistled from the dingles near
And the weird chipping of the woodpecker
Rang lonelily and sharp the sky was fair
And a fresh breath of spring stirred everywhere
Merlin and Vivian stopped on the slope brow
To gaze on the light sea of leaf and bough
Which glistering plays all round them lone and mild
As if to itself the quiet forest smiled
Upon the brow-top grew a thorn and here
The grass was dry and mossed and you saw clear
Across the hollow white anemones
Starred the cool turf and clumps of primroses
Ran out from the dark underwood behind
No fairer resting-place a man could find
Here let us halt said Merlin then and she
Nodded and tied her palfrey to a tree
They sate them down together and a sleep
Fell upon Merlin more like death so deep
Her finger on her lips then Vivian rose
And from her brown-locked head the wimple throws
And takes it in her hand and waves it over
The blossomed thorn-tree and her sleeping lover
Nine times she waved the fluttering wimple round
And made a little plot of magic ground
And in that daisied circle as men say
Is Merlin prisoner till the judgment-day
But she herself whither she will can rove 
For she was passing weary of his love
Pauline mine own bend o'er me thy soft breast
Shall pant to mine bend o'er me thy sweet eyes
And loosened hair and breathing lips and arms
Drawing me to thee these build up a screen
To shut me in with thee and from all fear
So that I might unlock the sleepless brood
Of fancies from my soul their lurking-place
Nor doubt that each would pass ne'er to return
To one so watched so loved and so secured
But what can guard thee but thy naked love
Ah dearest whoso sucks a poisoned wound
Envenoms his own veins Thou art so good
So calm if thou shouldst wear a brow less light
For some wild thought which but for me were kept
From out thy soul as from a sacred star
Yet till I have unlocked them it were vain
To hope to sing some woe would light on me
Nature would point at one whose quivering lip
Was bathed in her enchantments whose brow burned
Beneath the crown to which her secrets knelt
Who learned the spell which can call up the dead
And then departed smiling like a fiend
Who has deceived God if such one should seek
Again her altars and stand robed and crowned
Amid the faithful Sad confession first
Remorse and pardon and old claims renewed
Ere I can be as I shall be no more
I had been spared this shame if I had sat
By thee forever from the first in place
Of my wild dreams of beauty and of good
Or with them as an earnest of their truth
No thought nor hope having been shut from thee
No vague wish unexplained no wandering aim
Sent back to bind on fancy wings and seek
Some strange fair world where it might be a law
But doubting nothing had been led by thee
Through youth and saved as one at length awaked
Who has slept through a peril Ah vain vain
Thou lovest me the past is in its grave
Though its ghost haunts us still this much is ours
To cast away restraint lest a worse thing
Wait for us in the dark Thou lovest me
And thou art to receive not love but faith
For which thou wilt be mine and smile and take
All shapes and shames and veil without a fear
That form which music follows like a slave
And I look to thee and I trust in thee
As in a Northern night one looks alway
Unto the East for morn and spring and joy
Thou seest then my aimless hopeless state
And resting on some few old feelings won
Back by thy beauty wouldst that I essay
The task which was to me what now thou art
And why should I conceal one weakness more
Thou wilt remember one warm morn when winter
Crept aged from the earth and spring first breath
Blew soft from the moist hills the black-thorn boughs
So dark in the bare wood when glistening
In the sunshine were white with coming buds
Like the bright side of a sorrow and the banks
Had violets opening from sleep like eyes
I walked with thee who knew'st not a deep shame
Lurked beneath smiles and careless words which sought
To hide it till they wandered and were mute
As we stood listening on a sunny mound
To the wind murmuring in the damp copse
Like heavy breathings of some hidden thing
Betrayed by sleep until the feeling rushed
That I was low indeed yet not so low
As to endure the calmness of thine eyes
And so I told thee all while the cool breast
I leaned on altered not its quiet beating
And long ere words like a hurt bird complaint
Bade me look up and be what I had been
I felt despair could never live by thee
Thou wilt remember Thou art not more dear
Than song was once to me and I ne'er sung
But as one entering bright halls where all
Will rise and shout for him sure I must own
That I am fallen having chosen gifts
Distinct from theirs that I am sad and fain
Would give up all to be but where I was
Not high as I had been if faithful found
But low and weak yet full of hope and sure
Of goodness as of life that I would lose
All this gay mastery of mind to sit
Once more with them trusting in truth and love
And with an aim not being what I am
O Pauline I am ruined who believed
That though my soul had floated from its sphere
Of wild dominion into the dim orb
Of self that it was strong and free as ever
It has conformed itself to that dim orb
Reflecting all its shades and shapes and now
Must stay where it alone can be adored
I have felt this in dreams in dreams in which
I seemed the fate from which I fled I felt
A strange delight in causing my decay
I was a fiend in darkness chained forever
Within some ocean-cave and ages rolled
Till through the cleft rock like a moonbeam came
A white swan to remain with me and ages
Rolled yet I tired not of my first free joy
In gazing on the peace of its pure wings
And then I said It is most fair to me
Yet its soft wings must sure have suffered change
From the thick darkness sure its eyes are dim
Its silver pinions must be cramped and numbed
With sleeping ages here it cannot leave me
For it would seem in light beside its kind
Withered though here to me most beautiful
And then I was a young witch whose blue eyes
As she stood naked by the river springs
Drew down a god I watched his radiant form
Growing less radiant and it gladdened me
Till one morn as he sat in the sunshine
Upon my knees singing to me of heaven
He turned to look at me ere I could lose
The grin with which I viewed his perishing
And he shrieked and departed and sat long
By his deserted throne but sunk at last
Murmuring as I kissed his lips and curled
Around him I am still a god to thee
Still I can lay my soul bare in its fall
Since all the wandering and all the weakness
Will be a saddest comment on the song
And if that done I can be young again
I will give up all gained as willingly
As one gives up a charm which shuts him out
From hope or part or care in human kind
As life wanes all its care and strife and toil
Seem strangely valueless while the old trees
Which grew by our youth home the waving mass
Of climbing plants heavy with bloom and dew
The morning swallows with their songs like words
All these seem clear and only worth our thoughts
So aught connected with my early life
My rude songs or my wild imaginings
How I look on them most distinct amid
The fever and the stir of after years
I ne'er had ventured e'en to hope for this
Had not the glow I felt at His award
Assured me all was not extinct within
His whom all honor whose renown springs up
Like sunlight which will visit all the world
So that e'en they who sneered at him at first
Come out to it as some dark spider crawls
From his foul nets which some lit torch invades
Yet spinning still new films for his retreat
Thou didst smile poet but can we forgive
Sun-treader life and light be thine forever
Thou art gone from us years go by and spring
Gladdens and the young earth is beautiful
Yet thy songs come not other bards arise
But none like thee they stand thy majesties
Like mighty works which tell some spirit there
Hath sat regardless of neglect and scorn
Till its long task completed it hath risen
And left us never to return and all
Rush in to peer and praise when all in vain
The air seems bright with thy past presence yet
But thou art still for me as thou hast been
When I have stood with thee as on a throne
With all thy dim creations gathered round
Like mountains and I felt of mould like them
And with them creatures of my own were mixed
Like things half-lived catching and giving life
But thou art still for me who have adored
Though single panting but to hear thy name
Which I believed a spell to me alone
Scarce deeming thou wast as a star to men
As one should worship long a sacred spring
Scarce worth a moth flitting which long grasses cross
And one small tree embowers droopingly 
Joying to see some wandering insect won
To live in its few rushes or some locust
To pasture on its boughs or some wild bird
Stoop for its freshness from the trackless air
And then should find it but the fountain-head
Long lost of some great river washing towns
And towers and seeing old woods which will live
But by its banks untrod of human foot
Which when the great sun sinks lie quivering
In light as some thing lieth half of life
Before God foot waiting a wondrous change
Then girt with rocks which seek to turn or stay
Its course in vain for it does ever spread
Like a sea arm as it goes rolling on
Being the pulse of some great country so
Wast thou to me and art thou to the world
And I perchance half feel a strange regret
That I am not what I have been to thee
Like a girl one has silently loved long
In her first loneliness in some retreat
When late emerged all gaze and glow to view
Her fresh eyes and soft hair and lips which bloom
Like a mountain berry doubtless it is sweet
To see her thus adored but there have been
Moments when all the world was in our praise
Sweeter than any pride of after hours
Yet sun-treader all hail From my heart heart
I bid thee hail E'en in my wildest dreams
I proudly feel I would have thrown to dust
The wreaths of fame which seemed o'erhanging me
To see thee for a moment as thou art
And if thou livest if thou lovest spirit
Remember me who set this final seal
To wandering thought that one so pure as thou
Could never die Remember me who flung
All honor from my soul yet paused and said
There is one spark of love remaining yet
For I have naught in common with him shapes
Which followed him avoid me and foul forms
Seek me which ne'er could fasten on his mind
And though I feel how low I am to him
Yet I aim not even to catch a tone
Of harmonies he called profusely up
So one gleam still remains although the last
Remember me who praise thee e'en with tears
For never more shall I walk calm with thee
Thy sweet imaginings are as an air
A melody some wondrous singer sings
Which though it haunt men oft in the still eve
They dream not to essay yet it no less
But more is honored I was thine in shame
And now when all thy proud renown is out
I am a watcher whose eyes have grown dim
With looking for some star which breaks on him
Altered and worn and weak and full of tears
Autumn has come like spring returned to us
Won from her girlishness like one returned
A friend that was a lover nor forgets
The first warm love but full of sober thoughts
Of fading years whose soft mouth quivers yet
With the old smile but yet so changed and still
And here am I the scoffer who have probed
Life vanity won by a word again
Into my own life by one little word
Of this sweet friend who lives in loving me
Lives strangely on my thoughts and looks and words
As fathoms down some nameless ocean thing
Its silent course of quietness and joy
O dearest if indeed I tell the past
May'st thou forget it as a sad sick dream
Or if it linger my lost soul too soon
Sinks to itself and whispers we shall be
But closer linked two creatures whom the earth
Bears singly with strange feelings unrevealed
Save to each other or two lonely things
Created by some power whose reign is done
Having no part in God or his bright world
I am to sing whilst ebbing day dies soft
As a lean scholar dies worn o'er his book
And in the heaven stars steal out one by one
As hunted men steal to their mountain watch
I must not think lest this new impulse die
In which I trust I have no confidence
So I will sing on fast as fancies come
Rudely the verse being as the mood it paints
I strip my mind bare whose first elements
I shall unveil not as they struggle forth
In infancy nor as they now exist
When I am grown above them and can rule 
But in that middle stage when they were full
Yet ere I had disposed them to my will
And then I shall show how these elements
Produced my present state and what it is
I am made up of an intensest life
Of a most clear idea of consciousness
Of self distinct from all its qualities
From all affections passions feelings powers
And thus far it exists if tracked in all
But linked in me to self-supremacy
Existing as a centre to all things
Most potent to create and rule and call
Upon all things to minister to it
And to a principle of restlessness
Which would be all have see know taste feel all 
This is myself and I should thus have been
Though gifted lower than the meanest soul
And of my powers one springs up to save
From utter death a soul with such desire
Confined to clay of powers the only one
Which marks me an imagination which
Has been a very angel coming not
In fitful visions but beside me ever
And never failing me so though my mind
Forgets not not a shred of life forgets
Yet I can take a secret pride in calling
The dark past up to quell it regally
A mind like this must dissipate itself
But I have always had one lode-star now
As I look back I see that I have halted
Or hastened as I looked towards that star 
A need a trust a yearning after God
A feeling I have analyzed but late
But it existed and was reconciled
With a neglect of all I deemed his laws
Which yet when seen in others I abhorred
I felt as one beloved and so shut in
From fear and thence I date my trust in signs
And omens for I saw God everywhere
And I can only lay it to the fruit
Of a sad after-time that I could doubt
Even his being e'en the while I felt
His presence never acted from myself
Still trusted in a hand to lead me through
All danger and this feeling ever fought
Against my weakest reason and resolve
And I can love nothing and this dull truth
Has come the last but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life
These make myself I have long sought in vain
To trace how they were formed by circumstance
Yet ever found them mould my wildest youth
Where they alone displayed themselves converted
All objects to their use now see their course
They came to me in my first dawn of life
Which passed alone with wisest ancient books
All halo-girt with fancies of my own
And I myself went with the tale a god
Wandering after beauty or a giant
Standing vast in the sunset an old hunter
Talking with gods or a high-crested chief
Sailing with troops of friends to Tenedos
I tell you naught has ever been so clear
As the place the time the fashion of those lives
I had not seen a work of lofty art
Nor woman beauty nor sweet nature face
Yet I say never morn broke clear as those
On the dim clustered isles in the blue sea
The deep groves and white temples and wet caves
And nothing ever will surprise me now 
Who stood beside the naked Swift-footed
Who bound my forehead with Proserpine hair
And strange it is that I who could so dream
Should e'er have stooped to aim at aught beneath 
Aught low or painful but I never doubted
So as I grew I rudely shaped my life
To my immediate wants yet strong beneath
Was a vague sense of power though folded up 
A sense that though those shades and times were past
Their spirit dwelt in me with them should rule
Then came a pause and long restraint chained down
My soul till it was changed I lost myself
And were it not that I so loathe that loss
I could recall how first I learned to turn
My mind against itself and the effects
In deeds for which remorse were vain as for
The wanderings of delirious dream yet thence
Came cunning envy falsehood all world wrong
That spotted me at length I cleansed my soul
Yet long world influence remained and naught
But the still life I led apart once more
Which left me free to seek soul old delights
Could e'er have brought me thus far back to peace
As peace returned I sought out some pursuit
And song rose no new impulse but the one
With which all others best could be combined
My life has not been that of those whose heaven
Was lampless save where poesy shone out
But as a clime where glittering mountain-tops
And glancing sea and forests steeped in light
Give back reflected the far-flashing sun
For music which is earnest of a heaven
Seeing we know emotions strange by it
Not else to be revealed is like a voice
A low voice calling fancy as a friend
To the green woods in the gay summer time
And she fills all the way with dancing shapes
Which have made painters pale and they go on
Till stars look at them and winds call to them
As they leave life path for the twilight world
Where the dead gather This was not at first
For I scarce knew what I would do I had
An impulse but no yearning only sang
And first I sang as I in dream have seen
Music wait on a lyrist for some thought
Yet singing to herself until it came
I turned to those old times and scenes where all
That beautiful had birth for me and made
Rude verses on them all and then I paused 
I had done nothing so I sought to know
What other minds achieved No fear outbroke
As on the works of mighty bards I gazed
In the first joy at finding my own thoughts
Recorded my own fancies justified
And their aspirings but my very own
With them I first explored passion and mind 
All to begin afresh I rather sought
To rival what I wondered at than form
Creations of my own if much was light
Lent by the others much was yet my own
I paused again a change was coming came
I was no more a boy the past was breaking
Before the future and like fever worked
I thought on my new self and all my powers
Burst out I dreamed not of restraint but gazed
On all things schemes and systems went and came
And I was proud being vainest of the weak
In wandering o'er thought world to seek some one
To be my prize as if you wandered o'er
The White Way for a star And my choice fell
Not so much on a system as a man 
On one whom praise of mine shall not offend
Who was as calm as beauty being such
Unto mankind as thou to me Pauline 
Believing in them and devoting all
His soul strength to their winning back to peace
Who sent forth hopes and longings for their sake
Clothed in all passion melodies such first
Caught me and set me slave of a sweet task
To disentangle gather sense from song
Since song-inwoven lurked there words which seemed
A key to a new world the muttering
Of angels something yet unguessed by man
How my heart leapt as still I sought and found
Much there I felt my own soul had conceived
But there living and burning Soon the orb
Of his conceptions dawned on me its praise
Lives in the tongues of men men brows are high
When his name means a triumph and a pride
So my weak voice may well forbear to shame
What seemed decreed my fate I threw myself
To meet it I was vowed to liberty
Men were to be as gods and earth as heaven
And I ah what a life was mine to prove
My whole soul rose to meet it Now Pauline
I shall go mad if I recall that time
Oh let me look back ere I leave forever
The time which was an hour one fondly waits
For a fair girl that comes a withered hag
And I was lonely far from woods and fields
And amid dullest sights who should be loose
As a stag yet I was full of bliss who lived
With Plato and who had the key to life
And I had dimly shaped my first attempt
And many a thought did I build up on thought
As the wild bee hangs cell to cell in vain
For I must still advance no rest for mind
'T was in my plan to look on real life
The life all new to me my theories
Were firm so them I left to look and learn
Mankind its cares hopes fears its woes and joys
And as I pondered on their ways I sought
How best life end might be attained an end
Comprising every joy I deeply mused
And suddenly without heart-wreck I awoke
As from a dream I said 'T was beautiful
Yet but a dream and so adieu to it
As some world-wanderer sees in a far meadow
Strange towers and high-walled gardens thick with trees
Where song takes shelter and delicious mirth
From laughing fairy creatures peeping over
And on the morrow when he comes to lie
Forever 'neath those garden-trees fruit-flushed
Sung round by fairies all his search is vain
First went my hopes of perfecting mankind
Next faith in them and then in freedom self
And virtue self then my own motives ends
And aims and loves and human love went last
I felt this no decay because new powers
Rose as old feelings left wit mockery
Light-heartedness for I had oft been sad
Mistrusting my resolves but now I cast
Hope joyously away I laughed and said
No more of this I must not think at length
I looked again to see if all went well
My powers were greater as some temple seemed
My soul where naught is changed and incense rolls
Around the altar only God is gone
And some dark spirit sitteth in his seat
So I passed through the temple and to me
Knelt troops of shadows and they cried Hail king
We serve thee now and thou shalt serve no more
Call on us prove us let us worship thee
And I said Are ye strong Let fancy bear me
Far from the past And I was borne away
As Arab birds float sleeping in the wind
O'er deserts towers and forests I being calm
And I said I have nursed up energies
They will prey on me And a band knelt low
And cried Lord we are here and we will make
Safe way for thee in thine appointed life
But look on us And I said Ye will worship
Me should my heart not worship too They shouted
Thyself thou art our king So I stood there
Smiling oh vanity of vanities
For buoyant and rejoicing was the spirit
With which I looked out how to end my course
I felt once more myself my powers all mine
I knew while youth and health so lifted me
That spite of all life nothingness no grief
Came nigh me I must ever be light-hearted
And that this knowledge was the only veil
Betwixt joy and despair so if age came
I should be left a wreck linked to a soul
Yet fluttering or mind-broken and aware
Of my decay So a long summer morn
Found me and ere noon came I had resolved
No age should come on me ere youth was spent
For I would wear myself out like that morn
Which wasted not a sunbeam every hour
I would make mine and die and thus I sought
To chain my spirit down which erst I freed
For flights to fame I said The troubled life
Of genius seen so gay when working forth
Some trusted end grows sad when all proves vain 
How sad when men have parted with truth peace
For falsest fancy sake which waited first
As an obedient spirit when delight
Came without fancy call but alters soon
Comes darkened seldom hastens to depart
Leaving a heavy darkness and warm tears
But I shall never lose her she will live
Dearer for such seclusion I but catch
A hue a glance of what I sing so pain
Is linked with pleasure for I ne'er may tell
Half the bright sights which dazzle me but now
Mine shall be all the radiance let them fade
Untold others shall rise as fair as fast
And when all done the few dim gleams transferred 
For a new thought sprang up how well it were
Discarding shadowy hope to weave such lays
As straight encircle men with praise and love
So I should not die utterly should bring
One branch from the gold forest like the knight
Of old tales witnessing I had been there 
And when all done how vain seems e'en success 
The vaunted influence poets have o'er men
'Tis a fine thing that one weak as myself
Should sit in his lone room knowing the words
He utters in his solitude shall move
Men like a swift wind that though dead and gone
New eyes shall glisten when his beauteous dreams
Of love come true in happier frames than his
Ay the still night brings thoughts like these but morn
Comes and the mockery again laughs out
At hollow praises smiles allied to sneers
And my soul idol ever whispers me
To dwell with him and his unhonored song
And I foreknow my spirit that would press
First in the struggle fail again to make
All bow enslaved and I again should sink
And then know that this curse will come on us
To see our idols perish we may wither
No marvel we are clay but our low fate
Should not extend to those whom trustingly
We sent before into time yawning gulf
To face what dread may lurk in darkness there
To find the painter glory pass and feel
Music can move us not as once or worst
To weep decaying wits ere the frail body
Decays Naught makes me trust some love is true
But the delight of the contented lowness
With which I gaze on him I keep forever
Above me I to rise and rival him
Feed his fame rather from my heart best blood
Wither unseen that he may flourish still
Pauline my soul friend thou dost pity yet
How this mood swayed me when that soul found thine
When I had set myself to live this life
Defying all past glory Ere thou camest
I seemed defiant sweet for old delights
Had flocked like birds again music my life
Nourished me more than ever then the lore
Loved for itself and all it shows that king
Treading the purple calmly to his death
While round him like the clouds of eve all dusk
The giant shades of fate silently flitting
Pile the dim outline of the coming doom
And him sitting alone in blood while friends
Are hunting far in the sunshine and the boy
With his white breast and brow and clustering curls
Streaked with his mother blood but striving hard
To tell his story ere his reason goes
And when I loved thee as love seemed so oft
Thou lovedst me indeed I wondering searched
My heart to find some feeling like such love
Believing I was still much I had been
Too soon I found all faith had gone from me
And the late glow of life like change on clouds
Proved not the morn-blush widening into day
But eve faint-colored by the dying sun
While darkness hastens quickly I will tell
My state as though 't were none of mine despair
Cannot come near us this it is my state
Souls alter not and mine must still advance
Strange that I knew not when I flung away
My youth chief aims their loss might lead to loss
Of what few I retained and no resource
Be left me for behold how changed is all
I cannot chain my soul it will not rest
In its clay prison this most narrow sphere
It has strange impulse tendency desire
Which nowise I account for nor explain
But cannot stifle being bound to trust
All feelings equally to hear all sides
How can my life indulge them yet they live
Referring to some state of life unknown
My selfishness is satiated not
It wears me like a flame my hunger for
All pleasure howsoe'er minute grows pain
I envy how I envy him whose soul
Turns its whole energies to some one end
To elevate an aim pursue success
However mean So my still baffled hope
Seeks out abstractions I would have one joy
But one in life so it were wholly mine
One rapture all my soul could fill and this
Wild feeling places me in dream afar
In some vast country where the eye can see
No end to the far hills and dales bestrewn
With shining towers and towns till I grow mad
Well-nigh to know not one abode but holds
Some pleasure while my soul could grasp the world
But must remain this vile form slave I look
With hope to age at last which quenching much
May let me concentrate what sparks it spares
This restlessness of passion meets in me
A craving after knowledge the sole proof
Of yet commanding will is in that power
Repressed for I beheld it in its dawn
The sleepless harpy with just-budding wings
And I considered whether to forego
All happy ignorant hopes and fears to live
Finding a recompense in its wild eyes
And when I found that I should perish so
I bade its wild eyes close from me forever
And I am left alone with old delights
See it lies in me a chained thing still prompt
To serve me if I loose its slightest bond
I cannot but be proud of my bright slave
How should this earth life prove my only sphere
Can I so narrow sense but that in life
Soul still exceeds it In their elements
My love outsoars my reason but since love
Perforce receives its object from this earth
While reason wanders chainless the few truths
Caught from its wanderings have sufficed to quell
Love chained below then what were love set free
Which with the object it demands would pass
Reason companioning the seraphim
No what I feel may pass all human love
Yet fall far short of what my love should be
And yet I seem more warped in this than aught
Myself stands out more hideously of old
I could forget myself in friendship fame
Liberty nay in love of mightier souls
But I begin to know what thing hate is 
To sicken and to quiver and grow white 
And I myself have furnished its first prey
Hate of the weak and ever-wavering will
The selfishness the still-decaying frame 
But I must never grieve whom wing can waft
Far from such thoughts as now Andromeda
And she is with me years roll I shall change
But change can touch her not so beautiful
With her fixed eyes earnest and still and hair
Lifted and spread by the salt-sweeping breeze
And one red beam all the storm leaves in heaven
Resting upon her eyes and hair such hair
As she awaits the snake on the wet beach
By the dark rock and the white wave just breaking
At her feet quite naked and alone a thing
I doubt not nor fear for secure some god
To save will come in thunder from the stars
Let it pass Soul requires another change
I will be gifted with a wondrous mind
Yet sunk by error to men sympathy
And in the wane of life yet only so
As to call up their fears and there shall come
A time requiring youth best energies
And lo I fling age sorrow sickness off
And rise triumphant triumph through decay
And thus it is that I supply the chasm
'Twixt what I am and all I fain would be
But then to know nothing to hope for nothing
To seize on life dull joys from a strange fear
Lest losing them all lost and naught remains
There  some vile juggle with my reason here
I feel I but explain to my own loss
These impulses they live no less the same
Liberty what though I despair my blood
Rose never at a slave name proud as now
Oh sympathies obscured by sophistries 
Why else have I sought refuge in myself
But from the woes I saw and could not stay
Love is not this to love thee my Pauline
I cherish prejudice lest I be left
Utterly loveless witness my belief
In poets though sad change has come there too
No more I leave myself to follow them 
Unconsciously I measure me by them 
Let me forget it and I cherish most
My love of England how her name a word
Of hers in a strange tongue makes my heart beat
Pauline could I but break the spell Not now 
All fever but when calm shall come again
I am prepared I have made life my own
I would not be content with all the change
One frame should feel but I have gone in thought
Through all conjuncture I have lived all life
When it is most alive where strangest fate
New-shapes it past surmise the throes of men
Bit by some curse or in the grasps of doom
Half-visible and still-increasing round
Or crowning their wide being general aim
These are wild fancies but I feel sweet friend
As one breathing his weakness to the ear
Of pitying angel dear as a winter flower
A slight flower growing alone and offering
Its frail cup of three leaves to the cold sun
Yet joyous and confiding like the triumph
Of a child and why am I not worthy thee
I can live all the life of plants and gaze
Drowsily on the bees that flit and play
Or bare my breast for sunbeams which will kill
Or open in the night of sounds to look
For the dim stars I can mount with the bird
Leaping airily his pyramid of leaves
And twisted boughs of some tall mountain tree
Or rise cheerfully springing to the heavens
Or like a fish breathe deep the morning air
In the misty sun-warm water or with flower
And tree can smile in light at the sinking sun
Just as the storm comes as a girl would look
On a departing lover most serene
Pauline come with me see how I could build
A home for us out of the world in thought
I am uplifted fly with me Pauline
Night and one single ridge of narrow path
Between the sullen river and the woods
Waving and muttering for the moonless night
Has shaped them into images of life
Like the uprising of the giant-ghosts
Looking on earth to know how their sons fare
Thou art so close by me the roughest swell
Of wind in the tree-tops hides not the panting
Of thy soft breasts No we will pass to morning 
Morning the rocks and valleys and old woods
How the sun brightens in the mist and here
Half in the air like creatures of the place
Trusting the element living on high boughs
That swing in the wind look at the silver spray
Flung from the foam-sheet of the cataract
Amid the broken rocks Shall we stay here
With the wild hawks No ere the hot noon come
Dive we down safe See this our new retreat
Walled in with a sloped mound of matted shrubs
Dark tangled old and green still sloping down
To a small pool whose waters lie asleep
Amid the trailing boughs turned water-plants
And tall trees overarch to keep us in
Breaking the sunbeams into emerald shafts
And in the dreamy water one small group
Of two or three strange trees are got together
Wondering at all around as strange beasts herd
Together far from their own land all wildness
No turf nor moss for boughs and plants pave all
And tongues of bank go shelving in the lymph
Where the pale-throated snake reclines his head
And old gray stones lie making eddies there
The wild-mice cross them dry-shod Deeper in
Shut thy soft eyes now look still deeper in
This is the very heart of the woods all round
Mountain-like heaped above us yet even here
One pond of water gleams far off the river
Sweeps like a sea barred out from land but one 
One thin clear sheet has overleaped and wound
Into this silent depth which gained it lies
Still as but let by sufferance the trees bend
O'er it as wild men watch a sleeping girl
And through their roots long creeping plants out-stretch
Their twined hair steeped and sparkling farther on
Tall rushes and thick flag-knots have combined
To narrow it so at length a silver thread
It winds all noiselessly through the deep wood
Till through a cleft-way through the moss and stone
It joins its parent-river with a shout
Up for the glowing day leave the old woods
See they part like a ruined arch the sky
Nothing but sky appears so close the roots
And grass of the hill-top level with the air 
Blue sunny air where a great cloud floats laden
With light like a dead whale that white birds pick
Floating away in the sun in some north sea
Air air fresh life-blood thin and searching air
The clear dear breath of God that loveth us
Where small birds reel and winds take their delight
Water is beautiful but not like air
See where the solid azure waters lie
Made as of thickened air and down below
The fern-ranks like a forest spread themselves
As though each pore could feel the element
Where the quick glancing serpent winds his way
Float with me there Pauline but not like air
Down the hill Stop a clump of trees see set
On a heap of rock which look o'er the far plain
So envious climbing shrubs would mount to rest
And peer from their spread boughs wide they wave looking
At the muleteers who whistle on their way
To the merry chime of morning bells past all
The little smoking cots mid fields and banks
And copses bright in the sun My spirit wanders
Hedgerows for me those living hedgerows where
The bushes close and clasp above and keep
Thought in I am concentrated I feel
But my soul saddens when it looks beyond
I cannot be immortal taste all joy
O God where do they tend these struggling aims
What would I have What is this sleep which seems
To bound all can there be a waking point
Of crowning life The soul would never rule
It would be first in all things it would have
Its utmost pleasure filled but that complete
Commanding for commanding sickens it
The last point I can trace is rest beneath
Some better essence than itself in weakness
This is myself not what I think should be
And what is that I hunger for but God
My God my God let me for once look on thee
As though naught else existed we alone
And as creation crumbles my soul spark
Expands till I can say Even from myself
I need thee and I feel thee and I love thee
I do not plead my rapture in thy works
For love of thee nor that I feel as one
Who cannot die but there is that in me
Which turns to thee which loves or which should love
Why have I girt myself with this hell-dress
Why have I labored to put out my life
Is it not in my nature to adore
And e'en for all my reason do I not
Feel him and thank him and pray to him now
Can I forego the trust that he loves me
Do I not feel a love which only ONE
O thou pale form so dimly seen deep-eyed
I have denied thee calmly do I not
Pant when I read of thy consummate power
And burn to see thy calm pure truths out-flash
The brightest gleams of earth philosophy
Do I not shake to hear aught question thee
If I am erring save me madden me
Take from me powers and pleasures let me die
Ages so I see thee I am knit round
As with a charm by sin and lust and pride
Yet though my wandering dreams have seen all shapes
Of strange delight oft have I stood by thee 
Have I been keeping lonely watch with thee
In the damp night by weeping Olivet
Or leaning on thy bosom proudly less
Or dying with thee on the lonely cross
Or witnessing thine outburst from the tomb
A mortal sin familiar friend doth here
Avow that he will give all earth reward
But to believe and humbly teach the faith
In suffering and poverty and shame
Only believing he is not unloved
And now my Pauline I am thine forever
I feel the spirit which has buoyed me up
Desert me and old shades are gathering fast
Yet while the last light waits I would say much
This chiefly it is gain that I have said
Somewhat of love I ever felt for thee
But seldom told our hearts so beat together
That speech seemed mockery but when dark hours come
And joy departs and thou sweet deem'st it strange
A sorrow moves me thou canst not remove
Look on this lay I dedicate to thee
Which through thee I began which thus I end
Collecting the last gleams to strive to tell
How I am thine and more than ever now
That I sink fast yet though I deeplier sink
No less song proves one word has brought me bliss
Another still may win bliss surely back
Thou knowest dear I could not think all calm
For fancies followed thought and bore me off
And left all indistinct ere one was caught
Another glanced so dazzled by my wealth
I knew not which to leave nor which to choose
For all so floated naught was fixed and firm
And then thou said'st a perfect bard was one
Who chronicled the stages of all life
And so thou bad'st me shadow this first stage
'T is done and even now I recognize
The shift the change from last to past discern
Faintly how life is truth and truth is good
And why thou must be mine is that e'en now
In the dim hush of night that I have done
Despite the sad forebodings love looks through 
Whispers E'en at the last I have her still
With her delicious eyes as clear as heaven
When rain in a quick shower has beat down mist
And clouds float white above like broods of swans
How the blood lies upon her cheek outspread
As thinned by kisses only in her lips
It wells and pulses like a living thing
And her neck looks like marble misted o'er
With love-breath a Pauline from heights above
Stooping beneath me looking up one look
As I might kill her and be loved the more
So love me me Pauline and naught but me
Never leave loving Words are wild and weak
Believe them not Pauline I stained myself
But to behold thee purer by my side
To show thou art my breath my life a last
Resource an extreme want never believe
Aught better could so look on thee nor seek
Again the world of good thoughts left for mine
There were bright troops of undiscovered suns
Each equal in their radiant course there were
Clusters of far fair isles which ocean kept
For his own joy and his waves broke on them
Without a choice and there was a dim crowd
Of visions each a part of some grand whole
And one star left his peers and came with peace
Upon a storm and all eyes pined for him
And one isle harbored a sea-beaten ship
And the crew wandered in its bowers and plucked
Its fruits and gave up all their hopes of home
And one dream came to a pale poet sleep
And he said I am singled out by God
No sin must touch me Words are wild and weak
But what they would express is Leave me not
Still sit by me with beating breast and hair
Loosened be watching earnest by my side
Turning my books or kissing me when I
Look up like summer wind Be still to me
A help to music mystery which mind fails
To fathom its solution no mere clue
O reason pedantry life rule prescribed
I hopeless I the loveless hope and love
Wiser and better know me now not when
You loved me as I was Smile not I have
Much yet to dawn on you to gladden you
No more of the past I'll look within no more
I have too trusted my own lawless wants
Too trusted my vain self vague intuition 
Draining soul wine alone in the still night
And seeing how as gathering films arose
As by an inspiration life seemed bare
And grinning in its vanity while ends
Foul to be dreamed of smiled at me as fixed
And fair while others changed from fair to foul
As a young witch turns an old hag at night
No more of this We will go hand in hand
I with thee even as a child love slave
Looking no farther than his liege commands
And thou hast chosen where this life shall be
The land which gave me thee shall be our home
Where nature lies all wild amid her lakes
And snow-swathed mountains and vast pines begirt
With ropes of snow where nature lies all bare
Suffering none to view her but a race
Or stinted or deformed like the mute dwarfs
Which wait upon a naked Indian queen
And there the time being when the heavens are thick
With storm I'll sit with thee while thou dost sing
Thy native songs gay as a desert bird
Which crieth as it flies for perfect joy
Or telling me old stories of dead knights
Or I will read great lays to thee how she
The fair pale sister went to her chill grave
With power to love and to be loved and live
Or we will go together like twin gods
Of the infernal world with scented lamp
Over the dead to call and to awake
Over the unshaped images which lie
Within my mind cave only leaving all
That tells of the past doubt So when spring comes
With sunshine back again like an old smile
And the fresh waters and awakened birds
And budding woods await us I shall be
Prepared and we will question life once more
Till its old sense shall come renewed by change
Like some clear thought which harsh words veiled before
Feeling God loves us and that all which errs
Is but a dream which death will dissipate
And then what need of longer exile Seek
My England and again there calm approach
All I once fled from calmly look on those
The works of my past weakness as one views
Some scene where danger met him long before
Ah that such pleasant life should be but dreamed
But whate'er come of it and though it fade
And though ere the cold morning all be gone
As it may be though music wait to wile
And strange eyes and bright wine lure laugh like sin
Which steals back softly on a soul half saved
And I the first deny decry despise
With this avowal these intents so fair 
Still be it all my own this moment pride
No less I make an end in perfect joy
E'en in my brightest time a lurking fear
Possessed me I well knew my weak resolves
I felt the witchery that makes mind sleep
Over its treasure as one half afraid
To make his riches definite but now
These feelings shall not utterly be lost
I shall not know again that nameless care
Lest leaving all undone in youth some new
And undreamed end reveal itself too late
For this song shall remain to tell forever
That when I lost all hope of such a change
Suddenly beauty rose on me again
No less I make an end in perfect joy
For I who thus again was visited
Shall doubt not many another bliss awaits
And though this weak soul sink and darkness whelm
Some little word shall light it raise aloft
To where I clearlier see and better love
As I again go o'er the tracts of thought
Like one who has a right and I shall live
With poets calmer purer still each time
And beauteous shapes will come for me to seize
And unknown secrets will be trusted me
Which were denied the waverer once but now
I shall be priest and prophet as of old
Sun-treader I believe in God and truth
And love and as one just escaped from death
Would bind himself in bands of friends to feel
He lives indeed so I would lean on thee
Thou must be ever with me most in gloom
If such must come but chiefly when I die
For I seem dying as one going in the dark
To fight a giant but live thou forever
And be to all what thou hast been to me
All in whom this wakes pleasant thoughts of me
Know my last state is happy free from doubt
Or touch of fear Love me and wish me well
The first mad impulse 't was as brief as fond
For as I gazed again upon the show
I soon distinguished here and there a shape
Palm-wreathed and radiant forehead and full eye
Well pleased was I their state should thus at once
Interpret my own thoughts Behold the clue
To all I rashly said and what I pine
To do these have accomplished we are peers
They know and therefore rule I too will know
You were beside me Festus as you say
You saw me plunge in their pursuits whom fame
Is lavish to attest the lords of mind
Not pausing to make sure the prize in view
Would satiate my cravings when obtained
But since they strove I strove Then came a slow
And strangling failure We aspired alike
Yet not the meanest plodder Tritheim counts
A marvel but was all-sufficient strong
Or staggered only at his own vast wits
While I was restless nothing satisfied
Distrustful most perplexed I would slur over
That struggle suffice it that I loathed myself
As weak compared with them yet felt somehow
A mighty power was brooding taking shape
Within me and this lasted till one night
When as I sat revolving it and more
A still voice from without said Seest thou not
Desponding child whence spring defeat and loss
Even from thy strength Consider hast thou gazed
Presumptuously on wisdom countenance
No veil between and can thy faltering hands
Unguided by the brain the sight absorbs
Pursue their task as earnest blinkers do
Whom radiance ne'er distracted Live their life
If thou wouldst share their fortune choose their eyes
Unfed by splendor Let each task present
Its petty good to thee Waste not thy gifts
In profitless waiting for the gods' descent
But have some idol of thine own to dress
With their array Know not for knowing sake
But to become a star to men forever
Know for the gain it gets the praise it brings
The wonder it inspires the love it breeds
Look one step onward and secure that step
And I smiled as one never smiles but once
Then first discovering my own aim extent
Which sought to comprehend the works of God
And God himself and all God intercourse
With the human mind I understood no less
My fellows' studies whose true worth I saw
But smiled not well aware who stood by me
And softer came the voice There is a way
'T is hard for flesh to tread therein imbued
With frailty hopeless if indulgence first
Have ripened inborn germs of sin to strength
Wilt thou adventure for my sake and man's
Apart from all reward And last it breathed 
Be happy my good soldier I am by thee
Be sure even to the end I answered not
Knowing him As he spoke I was endued
With comprehension and a steadfast will
And when he ceased my brow was sealed his own
If there took place no special change in me
How comes it all things wore a different hue
Thenceforward pregnant with vast consequence
Teeming with grand result loaded with fate
So that when quailing at the mighty range
Of secret truths which yearn for birth I haste
To contemplate undazzled some one truth
Its bearings and effects alone at once
What was a speck expands into a star
Asking a life to pass exploring thus
Till I near craze I go to prove my soul
I see my way as birds their trackless way
I shall arrive what time what circuit first
I ask not but unless God send his hail
Or blinding fireballs sleet or stifling snow
In some time his good time I shall arrive
He guides me and the bird In his good time
For me I estimate their works and them
So rightly that at times I almost dream
I too have spent a life the sages' way
And tread once more familiar paths Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
Ages ago and in that act a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest so
Instinct with better light let in by death
That life was blotted out not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain
Dim memories as now when once more seems
The goal in sight again All which indeed
Is foolish and only means the flesh I wear
The earth I tread are not more clear to me
Than my belief explained to you or no
Disguise it how you may 'T is true you utter
This scorn while by our side and loving us
'T is but a spot as yet but it will break
Into a hideous blotch if overlooked
How can that course be safe which from the first
Produces carelessness to human love
It seems you have abjured the helps which men
Who overpass their kind as you would do
Have humbly sought I dare not thoroughly probe
This matter lest I learn too much Let be
That popular praise would little instigate
Your efforts nor particular approval
Reward you put reward aside alone
You shall go forth upon your arduous task
None shall assist you none partake your toil
None share your triumph still you must retain
Some one to cast your glory on to share
Your rapture with Were I elect like you
I would encircle me with love and raise
A rampart of my fellows it should seem
Impossible for me to fail so watched
By gentle friends who made my cause their own
They should ward off fate envy the great gift
Extravagant when claimed by me alone
Being so a gift to them as well as me
If danger daunted me or ease seduced
How calmly their sad eyes should gaze reproach
Allowed their weight should be supposed to need
A further strengthening in these goodly helps
My course allures for its own sake its sole
Intrinsic worth and ne'er shall boat of mine
Adventure forth for gold and apes at once
Your sages say if human therefore weak
If weak more need to give myself entire
To my pursuit and by its side all else
No matter I deny myself but little
In waiving all assistance save its own
Would there were some real sacrifice to make
Your friends the sages threw their joys away
While I must be content with keeping mine
But know this you that 't is no will of mine
You should abjure the lofty claims you make
And this the cause I can no longer seek
To overlook the truth that there would be
A monstrous spectacle upon the earth
Beneath the pleasant sun among the trees
 A being knowing not what love is Hear me
You are endowed with faculties which bear
Annexed to them as 't were a dispensation
To summon meaner spirits to do their will
And gather round them at their need inspiring
Such with a love themselves can never feel
Passionless 'mid their passionate votaries
I know not if you joy in this or no
Or ever dream that common men can live
On objects you prize lightly but which make
Their heart sole treasure the affections seem
Beauteous at most to you which we must taste
Or die and this strange quality accords
I know not how with you sits well upon
That luminous brow though in another it scowls
An eating brand a shame I dare not judge you
The rules of right and wrong thus set aside
There no alternative I own you one
Of higher order under other laws
Than bind us therefore curb not one bold glance
Is love like this the natural lot of all
How many years of pain might one such hour
O'erbalance Dearest Michal dearest Festus
What shall I say if not that I desire
To justify your love and will dear friends
In swerving nothing from my first resolves
See the great moon and ere the mottled owls
Were wide awake I was to go It seems
You acquiesce at last in all save this 
If I am like to compass what I seek
By the untried career I choose and then
If that career making but small account
Of much of life delight will yet retain
Sufficient to sustain my soul for thus
I understand these fond fears just expressed
And first the lore you praise and I neglect
The labors and the precepts of old time
I have not lightly disesteemed But friends
Truth is within ourselves it takes no rise
From outward things whate'er you may believe
There is an inmost centre in us all
Where truth abides in fulness and around
Wall upon wall the gross flesh hems it in
This perfect clear perception which is truth
A baffling and perverting carnal mesh
Binds it and makes all error and to KNOW
Rather consists in opening out a way
Whence the imprisoned splendor may escape
Than in effecting entry for a light
Supposed to be without Watch narrowly
The demonstration of a truth its birth
And you trace back the effluence to its spring
And source within us where broods radiance vast
To be elicited ray by ray as chance
Shall favor chance for hitherto your sage
Even as he knows not how those beams are born
As little knows he what unlocks their fount
And men have oft grown old among their books
To die case-hardened in their ignorance
Whose careless youth had promised what long years
Of unremitted labor ne'er performed
While contrary it has chanced some idle day
To autumn loiterers just as fancy-free
As the midges in the sun gives birth at last
To truth produced mysteriously as cape
Of cloud grown out of the invisible air
Hence may not truth be lodged alike in all
The lowest as the highest some slight film
The interposing bar which binds a soul
And makes the idiot just as makes the sage
Some film removed the happy outlet whence
Truth issues proudly See this soul of ours
How it strives weakly in the child is loosed
In manhood clogged by sickness back compelled
By age and waste set free at last by death
Why is it flesh enthralls it or enthrones
What is this flesh we have to penetrate
Oh not alone when life flows still do truth
And power emerge but also when strange chance
Ruffles its current in unused conjuncture
When sickness breaks the body hunger watching
Excess or languor oftenest death approach
Peril deep joy or woe One man shall crawl
Through life surrounded with all stirring things
Unmoved and he goes mad and from the wreck
Of what he was by his wild talk alone
You first collect how great a spirit he hid
Therefore set free the soul alike in all
Discovering the true laws by which the flesh
Accloys the spirit We may not be doomed
To cope with seraphs but at least the rest
Shall cope with us Make no more giants God
But elevate the race at once We ask
To put forth just our strength our human strength
All starting fairly all equipped alike
Gifted alike all eagle-eyed true-hearted 
See if we cannot beat thine angels yet
Such is my task I go to gather this
The sacred knowledge here and there dispersed
About the world long lost or never found
And why should I be sad or lorn of hope
Why ever make man good distinct from God's
Or finding they are one why dare mistrust
Who shall succeed if not one pledged like me
Mine is no mad attempt to build a world
Apart from his like those who set themselves
To find the nature of the spirit they bore
And taught betimes that all their gorgeous dreams
Were only born to vanish in this life
Refused to fit them to its narrow sphere
But chose to figure forth another world
And other frames meet for their vast desires 
And all a dream Thus was life scorned but life
Shall yet be crowned twine amaranth I am priest
And all for yielding with a lively spirit
A poor existence parting with a youth
Like those who squander every energy
Convertible to good on painted toys
Breath-bubbles gilded dust And though I spurn
All adventitious aims from empty praise
To love award yet whoso deems such helps
Important and concerns himself for me
May know even these will follow with the rest 
As in the steady rolling Mayne asleep
Yonder is mixed its mass of schistous ore
My own affections laid to rest awhile
Will waken purified subdued alone
By all I have achieved Till then till then 
Ah the time-wiling loitering of a page
Through bower and over lawn till eve shall bring
The stately lady presence whom he loves 
The broken sleep of the fisher whose rough coat
Enwraps the queenly pearl these are faint types
See see they look on me I triumph now
But one thing Festus Michal I have told
All I shall e'er disclose to mortal say 
Do you believe I shall accomplish this
Over the waters in the vaporous West
The sun goes down as in a sphere of gold
Behind the arm of the city which between
With all that length of domes and minarets
Athwart the splendor black and crooked runs
Like a Turk verse along a scimitar
There lie sullen memorial and no more
Possess my aching sight 'T is done at last
Strange and the juggles of a sallow cheat
Have won me to this act 'T is as yon cloud
Should voyage unwrecked o'er many a mountain-top
And break upon a molehill I have dared
Come to a pause with knowledge scan for once
The heights already reached without regard
To the extent above fairly compute
All I have clearly gained for once excluding
A brilliant future to supply and perfect
All half-gains and conjectures and crude hopes
And all because a fortune-teller wills
His credulous seekers should inscribe thus much
Their previous life attainment in his roll
Before his promised secret as he vaunts
Make up the sum and here amid the scrawled
Uncouth recordings of the dupes of this
Old arch-genethliac lie my life results
A few blurred characters suffice to note
A stranger wandered long through many lands
And reaped the fruit he coveted in a few
Discoveries as appended here and there
The fragmentary produce of much toil
In a dim heap fact and surmise together
Confusedly massed as when acquired he was
Intent on gain to come too much to stay
And scrutinize the little gained the whole
Slipt in the blank space 'twixt an idiot gibber
And a mad lover ditty there it lies
And yet those blottings chronicle a life 
A whole life and my life Nothing to do
No problem for the fancy but a life
Spent and decided wasted past retrieve
Or worthy beyond peer Stay what does this
Remembrancer set down concerning life
'Time fleets youth fades life is an empty dream
It is the echo of time and he whose heart
Beat first beneath a human heart whose speech
Was copied from a human tongue can never
Recall when he was living yet knew not this
Nevertheless long seasons pass o'er him
Till some one hour experience shows what nothing
It seemed could clearer show and ever after
An altered brow and eye and gait and speech
Attest that now he knows the adage true
'Time fleets youth fades life is an empty dream'
Now I can go no farther well or ill
'T is done I must desist and take my chance
I cannot keep on the stretch 't is no back-shrinking 
For let but some assurance beam some close
To my toil grow visible and I proceed
At any price though closing it I die
Else here I pause The old Greek prophecy
Is like to turn out true I shall not quit
His chamber till I know what I desire
Was it the light wind sang it o'er the sea
An end a rest strange how the notion once
Encountered gathers strength by moments Rest
Where has it kept so long this throbbing brow
To cease this beating heart to cease all cruel
And gnawing thoughts to cease To dare let down
My strung so high-strung brain to dare unnerve
My harassed o'ertasked frame to know my place
My portion my reward even my failure
Assigned made sure forever To lose myself
Among the common creatures of the world
To draw some gain from having been a man
Neither to hope nor fear to live at length
Even in failure rest But rest in truth
And power and recompense I hoped that once
What sunk insensibly so deep Has all
Been undergone for this This the request
My labor qualified me to present
With no fear of refusal Had I gone
Slightingly through my task and so judged fit
To moderate my hopes nay were it now
My sole concern to exculpate myself
End things or mend them why I could not choose
A humbler mood to wait for the event
No no there needs not this no after all
At worst I have performed my share of the task
The rest is God concern mine merely this
To know that I have obstinately held
By my own work The mortal whose brave foot
Has trod unscathed the temple-court so far
That he descries at length the shrine of shrines
Must let no sneering of the demons' eyes
Whom he could pass unquailing fasten now
Upon him fairly past their power no no 
He must not stagger faint fall down at last
Having a charm to baffle them behold
He bares his front a mortal ventures thus
Serene amid the echoes beams and glooms
If he be priest henceforth if he wake up
The god of the place to ban and blast him there
Both well What failure or success to me
I have subdued my life to the one purpose
Whereto I ordained it there alone I spy
No doubt that way I may be satisfied
Yes well have I subdued my life beyond
The obligation of my strictest vow
The contemplation of my wildest bond
Which gave my nature freely up in truth
But in its actual state consenting fully
All passionate impulses its soil was formed
To rear should wither but foreseeing not
The tract doomed to perpetual barrenness
Would seem one day remembered as it was
Beside the parched sand-waste which now it is
Already strewn with faint blooms viewless then
I ne'er engaged to root up loves so frail
I felt them not yet now 't is very plain
Some soft spots had their birth in me at first
If not love say like love there was a time
When yet this wolfish hunger after knowledge
Set not remorselessly love claims aside
This heart was human once or why recall
Einsiedeln now and Wurzburg which the Mayne
Forsakes her course to fold as with an arm
And Festus my poor Festus with his praise
And counsel and grave fears where is he now
With the sweet maiden long ago his bride
I surely loved them that last night at least
When we gone gone the better I am saved
The sad review of an ambitious youth
Choked by vile lusts unnoticed in their birth
But let grow up and wind around a will
Till action was destroyed No I have gone
Purging my path successively of aught
Wearing the distinct likeness of such lusts
I have made life consist of one idea
Ere that was master up till that was born
I bear a memory of a pleasant life
Whose small events I treasure till one morn
I ran o'er the seven little grassy fields
Startling the flocks of nameless birds to tell
Poor Festus leaping all the while for joy
To leave all trouble for my future plans
Since I had just determined to become
The greatest and most glorious man on earth
And since that morn all life has been forgotten
All is one day one only step between
The outset and the end one tyrant all-
Absorbing aim fills up the interspace
One vast unbroken chain of thought kept up
Through a career apparently adverse
To its existence life death light and shadow
The shows of the world were bare receptacles
Or indices of truth to be wrung thence
Not ministers of sorrow or delight
A wondrous natural robe in which she went
For some one truth would dimly beacon me
From mountains rough with pines and flit and wink
O'er dazzling wastes of frozen snow and tremble
Into assured light in some branching mine
Where ripens swathed in fire the liquid gold 
And all the beauty all the wonder fell
On either side the truth as its mere robe
I see the robe now then I saw the form
So far then I have voyaged with success
So much is good then in this working sea
Which parts me from that happy strip of land
But o'er that happy strip a sun shone too
And fainter gleams it as the waves grow rough
And still more faint as the sea widens last
I sicken on a dead gulf streaked with light
From its own putrefying depths alone
Then God was pledged to take me by the hand
Now any miserable juggle can bid
My pride depart All is alike at length
God may take pleasure in confounding pride
By hiding secrets with the scorned and base 
I am here in short so little have I paused
Throughout I never glanced behind to know
If I had kept my primal light from wane
And thus insensibly am what I am
To fear a deeper curse an inner ruin
Plague beneath plague the last turning the first
To light beside its darkness Let me weep
My youth and its brave hopes all dead and gone
In tears which burn Would I were sure to win
Some startling secret in their stead a tincture
Of force to flush old age with youth or breed
Gold or imprison moonbeams till they change
To opal shafts only that hurling it
Indignant back I might convince myself
My aims remained supreme and pure as ever
Even now why not desire for mankind sake
That if I fail some fault may be the cause
That though I sink another may succeed
O God the despicable heart of us
Shut out this hideous mockery from my heart
'T was politic in you Aureole to reject
Single rewards and ask them in the lump
At all events once launched to hold straight on
For now 't is all or nothing Mighty profit
Your gains will bring if they stop short of such
Full consummation As a man you had
A certain share of strength and that is gone
Already in the getting these you boast
Do not they seem to laugh as who should say 
Great master we are here indeed dragged forth
To light this hast thou done be glad Now seek
The strength to use which thou hast spent in getting
And yet 't is much surely 't is very much
Thus to have emptied youth of all its gifts
To feed a fire meant to hold out till morn
Arrived with inexhaustible light and lo
I have heaped up my last and day dawns not
And I am left with gray hair faded hands
And furrowed brow Ha have I after all
Mistaken the wild nursling of my breast
Knowledge it seemed and power and recompense
Was she who glided through my room of nights
Who laid my head on her soft knees and smoothed
The damp locks whose sly soothings just began
When my sick spirit craved repose awhile 
God was I fighting sleep off for death sake
God Thou art mind Unto the master-mind
Mind should be precious Spare my mind alone
All else I will endure if as I stand
Here with my gains thy thunder smite me down
I bow me 't is thy will thy righteous will
I o'erpass life restrictions and I die
And if no trace of my career remain
Save a thin corpse at pleasure of the wind
In these bright chambers level with the air
See thou to it But if my spirit fail
My once proud spirit forsake me at the last
Hast thou done well by me So do not thou
Crush not my mind dear God though I be crushed
Hold me before the frequence of thy seraphs
And say I crushed him lest he should disturb
My law Men must not know their strength behold
Weak and alone how he had raised himself
But if delusions trouble me and thou
Not seldom felt with rapture in thy help
Throughout my toils and wanderings dost intend
To work man welfare through my weak endeavor
To crown my mortal forehead with a beam
From thine own blinding crown to smile and guide
This puny hand and let the work so wrought
Be styled my work hear me I covet not
An influx of new power an angel soul
It were no marvel then but I have reached
Thus far a man let me conclude a man
Give but one hour of my first energy
Of that invincible faith but only one
That I may cover with an eagle-glance
The truths I have and spy some certain way
To mould them and completing them possess
Yet God is good I started sure of that
And why dispute it now I'll not believe
But some undoubted warning long ere this
Had reached me a fire-labarum was not deemed
Too much for the old founder of these walls
Then if my life has not been natural
It has been monstrous yet till late my course
So ardently engrossed me that delight
A pausing and reflecting joy 't is plain
Could find no place in it True I am worn
But who clothes summer who is life itself
God that created all things can renew
And then though after-life to please me now
Must have no likeness to the past what hinders
Reward from springing out of toil as changed
As bursts the flower from earth and root and stalk
What use were punishment unless some sin
Be first detected let me know that first
No man could ever offend as I have done
The forms of earth No ancient hunter lifted
Up to the gods by his renown no nymph
Supposed the sweet soul of a woodland tree
Or sapphirine spirit of a twilight star
Should be too hard for me no shepherd-king
Regal for his white locks no youth who stands
Silent and very calm amid the throng
His right hand ever hid beneath his robe
Until the tyrant pass no lawgiver
No swan-soft woman rubbed with lucid oils
Given by a god for love of her too hard
Every passion sprung from man conceived by man
Would I express and clothe it in its right form
Or blend with others struggling in one form
Or show repressed by an ungainly form
Oh if you marvelled at some mighty spirit
With a fit frame to execute its will 
Even unconsciously to work its will 
You should be moved no less beside some strong
Rare spirit fettered to a stubborn body
Endeavoring to subdue it and inform it
With its own splendor All this I would do
And I would say this done His sprites created
God grants to each a sphere to be its world
Appointed with the various objects needed
To satisfy its own peculiar want
So I create a world for these my shapes
Fit to sustain their beauty and their strength
And at the word I would contrive and paint
Woods valleys rocks and plains dells sands and wastes
Lakes which when morn breaks on their quivering bed
Blaze like a wyvern flying round the sun
And ocean isles so small the dog-fish tracking
A dead whale who should find them would swim thrice
Around them and fare onward all to hold
The offspring of my brain Nor these alone
Bronze labyrinth palace pyramid and crypt
Baths galleries courts temples and terraces
Marts theatres and wharfs all filled with men
Men everywhere And this performed in turn
When those who looked on pined to hear the hopes
And fears and hates and loves which moved the crowd
I would throw down the pencil as the chisel
And I would speak no thought which ever stirred
A human breast should be untold all passions
All soft emotions from the turbulent stir
Within a heart fed with desires like mine
To the last comfort shutting the tired lids
Of him who sleeps the sultry noon away
Beneath the tent-tree by the wayside well
And this in language as the need should be
Now poured at once forth in a burning flow
Now piled up in a grand array of words
This done to perfect and consummate all
Even as a luminous haze links star to star
I would supply all chasms with music breathing
Mysterious motions of the soul no way
To be defined save in strange melodies
Last having thus revealed all I could love
Having received all love bestowed on it
I would die preserving so throughout my course
God full on me as I was full on men
He would approve my prayer I have gone through
The loveliness of life create for me
If not for men or take me to thyself
Thou didst not gaze like me upon that end
Till thine own powers for compassing the bliss
Were blind with glory nor grow mad to grasp
At once the prize long patient toil should claim
Nor spurn all granted short of that And I
Would do as thou a second time nay listen
Knowing ourselves our world our task so great
Our time so brief 't is clear if we refuse
The means so limited the tools so rude
To execute our purpose life will fleet
And we shall fade and leave our task undone
We will be wise in time what though our work
Be fashioned in despite of their ill-service
Be crippled every way 'T were little praise
Did full resources wait on our goodwill
At every turn Let all be as it is
Some say the earth is even so contrived
That tree and flower a vesture gay conceal
A bare and skeleton framework Had we means
Answering to our mind But now I seem
Wrecked on a savage isle how rear thereon
My palace Branching palms the props shall be
Fruit glossy mingling gems are for the East
Who heeds them I can pass them Serpents' scales
And painted birds' down furs and fishes' skins
Must help me and a little here and there
Is all I can aspire to still my art
Shall show its birth was in a gentler clime
Had I green jars of malachite this way
I'd range them where those sea-shells glisten above
Cressets should hang by right this way we set
The purple carpets as these mats are laid
Woven of fern and rush and blossoming flag
Or if by fortune some completer grace
Be spared to me some fragment some slight sample
Of the prouder workmanship my own home boasts
Some trifle little heeded there but here
The place one perfection with what joy
Would I enshrine the relic cheerfully
Foregoing all the marvels out of reach
Could I retain one strain of all the psalm
Of the angels one word of the fiat of God
To let my followers know what such things are
I would adventure nobly for their sakes
When nights were still and still the moaning sea
And far away I could descry the land
Whence I departed whither I return
I would dispart the waves and stand once more
At home and load my bark and hasten back
And fling my gains to them worthless or true
Friends I would say I went far far for them
Past the high rocks the haunt of doves the mounds
Of red earth from whose sides strange trees grow out
Past tracts of milk-white minute blinding sand
Till by a mighty moon I tremblingly
Gathered these magic herbs berry and bud
In haste not pausing to reject the weeds
But happy plucking them at any price
To me who have seen them bloom in their own soil
They are scarce lovely plait and wear them you
And guess from what they are the springs that fed them
The stars that sparkled o'er them night by night
The snakes that travelled far to sip their dew
Thus for my higher loves and thus even weakness
Would win me honor But not these alone
Should claim my care for common life its wants
And ways would I set forth in beauteous hues
The lowest hind should not possess a hope
A fear but I'd be by him saying better
Than he his own heart language I would live
Forever in the thoughts I thus explored
As a discoverer memory is attached
To all he finds they should be mine henceforth
Imbued with me though free to all before
For clay once cast into my soul rich mine
Should come up crusted o'er with gems Nor this
Would need a meaner spirit than the first
Nay 't would be but the selfsame spirit clothed
In humbler guise but still the selfsame spirit
As one spring wind unbinds the mountain snow
And comforts violets in their hermitage
But master poet who hast done all this
How didst thou 'scape the ruin whelming me
Didst thou when nerving thee to this attempt
Ne'er range thy mind extent as some wide hall
Dazzled by shapes that filled its length with light
Shapes clustered there to rule thee not obey
That will not wait thy summons will not rise
Singly nor when thy practised eye and hand
Can well transfer their loveliness but crowd
By thee forever bright to thy despair
Didst thou ne'er gaze on each by turns and ne'er
Resolve to single out one though the rest
Should vanish and to give that one entire
In beauty to the world forgetting so
Its peers whose number baffles mortal power
And this determined wast thou ne'er seduced
By memories and regrets and passionate love
To glance once more farewell and did their eyes
Fasten thee brighter and more bright until
Thou couldst but stagger back unto their feet
And laugh that man applause or welfare ever
Could tempt thee to forsake them Or when years
Had passed and still their love possessed thee wholly
When from without some murmur startled thee
Of darkling mortals famished for one ray
Of thy so-hoarded luxury of light
Didst thou ne'er strive even yet to break those spells
And prove thou couldst recover and fulfil
Thy early mission long ago renounced
And to that end select some shape once more
And did not mist-like influences thick films
Faint memories of the rest that charmed so long
Thine eyes float fast confuse thee bear thee off
As whirling snow-drifts blind a man who treads
A mountain ridge with guiding spear through storm
Say though I fell I had excuse to fall
Say I was tempted sorely say but this
Imagine how we sat long winter-nights
Scheming and wondering shaping your presumed
Adventure or devising its reward
Shutting out fear with all the strength of hope
For it was strange how even when most secure
In our domestic peace a certain dim
And flitting shade could sadden all it seemed
A restlessness of heart a silent yearning
A sense of something wanting incomplete 
Not to be put in words perhaps avoided
By mute consent but said or unsaid felt
To point to one so loved and so long lost
And then the hopes rose and shut out the fears 
How you would laugh should I recount them now
I still predicted your return at last
With gifts beyond the greatest of them all
All Tritheim wondrous troop did one of which
Attain renown by any chance I smiled
As well aware of who would prove his peer
Michal was sure some woman long ere this
As beautiful as you were sage had loved
Who blabs so oft the follies of this world
And I am death familiar as you know
I helped a man to die some few weeks since
Warped even from his go-cart to one end 
The living on princes' smiles reflected from
A mighty herd of favorites No mean trick
He left untried and truly well-nigh wormed
All traces of God finger out of him
Then died grown old And just an hour before
Having lain long with blank and soulless eyes
He sat up suddenly and with natural voice
Said that in spite of thick air and closed doors
God told him it was June and he knew well
Without such telling harebells grew in June
And all that kings could ever give or take
Would not be precious as those blooms to him
Just so allowing I am passing sage
It seems to me much worthier argument
Why pansies eyes that laugh bear beauty prize
From violets eyes that dream your Michal choice 
Than all fools find to wonder at in me
Or in my fortunes And be very sure
I say this from no prurient restlessness
No self-complacency itching to turn
Vary and view its pleasure from all points
And in this instance willing other men
May be at pains demonstrate to itself
The realness of the very joy it tastes
What should delight me like the news of friends
Whose memories were a solace to me oft
As mountain-baths to wild fowls in their flight
Ofter than you had wasted thought on me
Had you been wise and rightly valued bliss
But there no taming nor repressing hearts
God knows I need such So you heard me speak
I charge you if 't be so for I forget
Much and what laughter should be like No less
However I forego that luxury
Since it alarms the friend who brings it back
True laughter like my own must echo strangely
To thinking men a smile were better far
So make me smile If the exulting look
You wore but now be smiling 't is so long
Since I have smiled Alas such smiles are born
Alone of hearts like yours or herdsmen souls
Of ancient time whose eyes calm as their flocks
Saw in the stars mere garnishry of heaven
And in the earth a stage for altars only
Never change Festus I say never change
Forever gull who may they will be gulled
They will not look nor think 't is nothing new
In them but surely he is not of them
My Festus do you know I reckoned you 
Though all beside were sand-blind you my friend
Would look at me once close with piercing eye
Untroubled by the false glare that confounds
A weaker vision would remain serene
Though singular amid a gaping throng
I feared you or I had come sure long ere this
To Einsiedeln Well error has no end
And Rhasis is a sage and Basel boasts
A tribe of wits and I am wise and blest
Past all dispute 'T is vain to fret at it
I have vowed long ago my worshippers
Shall owe to their own deep sagacity
All further information good or bad
Small risk indeed my reputation runs
Unless perchance the glance now searching me
Be fixed much longer for it seems to spell
Dimly the characters a simpler man
Might read distinct enough Old eastern books
Say the fallen prince of morning some short space
Remained unchanged in semblance nay his brow
Was hued with triumph every spirit then
Praising his heart on flame the while a tale
Well Festus what discover you I pray
Why strive to make men hear feel fret themselves
With what is past their power to comprehend
I should not strive now only having nursed
The faint surmise that one yet walked the earth
One at least not the utter fool of show
Not absolutely formed to be the dupe
Of shallow plausibilities alone
One who in youth found wise enough to choose
The happiness his riper years approve
Was yet so anxious for another sake
That ere his friend could rush upon a mad
And ruinous course the converse of his own
His gentle spirit essayed prejudged for him
The perilous path foresaw its destiny
And warned the weak one in such tender words
Such accents his whole heart in every tone 
That oft their memory comforted that friend
When it by right should have increased despair
 Having believed I say that this one man
Could never lose the light thus from the first
His portion how should I refuse to grieve
At even my gain if it disturb our old
Relation if it make me out more wise
Therefore once more reminding him how well
He prophesied I note the single flaw
That spoils his prophet title In plain words
You were deceived and thus were you deceived 
I have not been successful and yet am
Most miserable 't is said at last nor you
Give credit lest you force me to concede
That common sense yet lives upon the world
To cleanse your memory of such matters knew
As far as words of mine could make it clear
That 't was my purpose to find joy or grief
Solely in the fulfilment of my plan
Or plot or whatsoe'er it was rejoicing
Alone as it proceeded prosperously
Sorrowing then only when mischance retarded
Its progress That was in those Wurzburg days
Not to prolong a theme I thoroughly hate
I have pursued this plan with all my strength
And having failed therein most signally
Cannot object to ruin utter and drear
As all-excelling would have been the prize
Had fortune favored me I scarce have right
To vex your frank good spirit late so glad
In my supposed prosperity I know
And were I lucky in a glut of friends
Would well agree to let your error live
Nay strengthen it with fables of success
But mine is no condition to refuse
The transient solace of so rare a godsend
My solitary luxury my one friend
Accordingly I venture to put off
The wearisome vest of falsehood galling me
Secure when he is by I lay me bare
Prone at his mercy but he is my friend
Not that he needs retain his aspect grave
That answers not my purpose for 't is like
Some sunny morning Basel being drained
Of its wise population every corner
Of the amphitheatre crammed with learned clerks
Here OEcolampadius looking worlds of wit
Here Castellanus as profound as he
Munsterus here Frobenius there all squeezed
And staring that the zany of the show
Even Paracelsus shall put off before them
His trappings with a grace but seldom judged
Expedient in such cases the grim smile
That will go round Is it not therefore best
To venture a rehearsal like the present
In a small way Where are the signs I seek
The first-fruits and fair sample of the scorn
Due to all quacks Why this will never do
Your presence when the noblest of mankind
Broken in body or subdued in soul
May through your skill renew their vigor raise
The shattered frame to pristine stateliness
When men in racking pain may purchase dreams
Of what delights them most swooning at once
Into a sea of bliss or rapt along
As in a flying sphere of turbulent light
When we may look to you as one ordained
To free the flesh from fell disease as frees
Our Luther burning tongue the fettered soul
You have a very decent prophet fame
So you but shun details here Little matter
Whether those hopes were mad the aims they sought
Safe and secure from all ambitious fools
Or whether my weak wits are overcome
By what a better spirit would scorn I fail
And now methinks 't were best to change a theme
I am a sad fool to have stumbled on
I say confusedly what comes uppermost
But there are times when patience proves at fault
As now this morning strange encounter you
Beside me once again you whom I guessed
Alive since hitherto with Luther leave
No friend have I among the saints at peace
To judge by any good their prayers effect
I knew you would have helped me why not he
My strange competitor in enterprise
Bound for the same end by another path
Arrived or ill or well before the time
At our disastrous journey doubtful close
How goes it with Aprile Ah they miss
Your lone sad sunny idleness of heaven
Our martyrs for the world sake heaven shuts fast
The poor mad poet is howling by this time
Since you are my sole friend then here or there
I could not quite repress the varied feelings
This meeting wakens they have had their vent
And now forget them Do the rear-mice still
Hang like a fretwork on the gate or what
In my time was a gate fronting the road
Answer me for my sake alone You smiled
Just now when I supposed some deed unworthy
Yourself might blot the else so bright result
Yet if your motives have continued pure
Your will unfaltering and in spite of this
You have experienced a defeat why then
I say not you would cheerfully withdraw
From contest mortal hearts are not so fashioned 
But surely you would ne'ertheless withdraw
You sought not fame nor gain nor even love
No end distinct from knowledge I repeat
Your very words once satisfied that knowledge
Is a mere dream you would announce as much
Yourself the first But how is the event
You are defeated and I find you here
I spoke not of my little labors here
But of the break-down of my general aims
For you aware of their extent and scope
To look on these sage lecturings approved
By beardless boys and bearded dotards worse
As a fit consummation of such aims
Is worthy notice A professorship
At Basel Since you see so much in it
And think my life was reasonably drained
Of life delights to render me a match
For duties arduous as such post demands 
Be it far from me to deny my power
To fill the petty circle lotted out
Of infinite space or justify the host
Of honors thence accruing So take notice
This jewel dangling from my neck preserves
The features of a prince my skill restored
To plague his people some few years to come
And all through a pure whim He had eased the earth
For me but that the droll despair which seized
The vermin of his household tickled me
I came to see Here drivelled the physician
Whose most infallible nostrum was at fault
There quaked the astrologer whose horoscope
Had promised him interminable years
Here a monk fumbled at the sick man mouth
With some undoubted relic a sudary
Of the Virgin while another piebald knave
Of the same brotherhood he loved them ever
Was actively preparing 'neath his nose
Such a suffumigation as once fired
Had stunk the patient dead ere he could groan
I cursed the doctor and upset the brother
Brushed past the conjurer vowed that the first gust
Of stench from the ingredients just alight
Would raise a cross-grained devil in my sword
Not easily laid and ere an hour the prince
Slept as he never slept since prince he was
A day and I was posting for my life
Placarded through the town as one whose spite
Had near availed to stop the blessed effects
Of the doctor nostrum which well seconded
By the sudary and most by the costly smoke 
Not leaving out the strenuous prayers sent up
Hard by in the abbey raised the prince to life
To the great reputation of the seer
Who confident expected all along
The glad event the doctor recompense 
Much largess from his highness to the monks 
And the vast solace of his loving people
Whose general satisfaction to increase
The prince was pleased no longer to defer
The burning of some dozen heretics
Remanded till God mercy should be shown
Touching his sickness last of all were joined
Ample directions to all loyal folk
To swell the complement by seizing me
Who doubtless some rank sorcerer endeavored
To thwart these pious offices obstruct
The prince cure and frustrate heaven by help
Of certain devils dwelling in his sword
By luck the prince in his first fit of thanks
Had forced this bauble on me as an earnest
Of further favors This one case may serve
To give sufficient taste of many such
So let them pass Those shelves support a pile
Of patents licenses diplomas titles
From Germany France Spain and Italy
They authorize some honor ne'ertheless
I set more store by this Erasmus sent
He trusts me our Frobenius is his friend
And him I raised nay read it from the dead
I weary you I see I merely sought
To show there no great wonder after all
That while I fill the class-room and attract
A crowd to Basel I get leave to stay
And therefore need not scruple to accept
The utmost they can offer if I please
For 't is but right the world should be prepared
To treat with favor e'en fantastic wants
Of one like me used up in serving her
Just as the mortal whom the gods in part
Devoured received in place of his lost limb
Some virtue or other cured disease I think
You mind the fables we have read together
The very pausing from all further toil
Which you find heinous would become a seal
To the sincerity of all my deeds
To be consistent I should die at once
I calculated on no after-life
Yet how crept in how fostered I know not
Here am I with as passionate regret
For youth and health and love so vainly lavished
As if their preservation had been first
And foremost in my thoughts and this strange fact
Humbled me wondrously and had due force
In rendering me the less averse to follow
A certain counsel a mysterious warning 
You will not understand but 't was a man
With aims not mine and yet pursued like mine
With the same fervor and no more success
Perishing in my sight who summoned me
As I would shun the ghastly fate I saw
To serve my race at once to wait no longer
That God should interfere in my behalf
But to distrust myself put pride away
And give my gains imperfect as they were
To men I have not leisure to explain
How since a singular series of events
Has raised me to the station you behold
Wherein I seem to turn to most account
The mere wreck of the past perhaps receive
Some feeble glimmering token that God views
And may approve my penance therefore here
You find me doing most good or least harm
And if folks wonder much and profit little
'T is not my fault only I shall rejoice
When my part in the farce is shuffled through
And the curtain falls I must hold out till then
