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, '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 Crown'd. And Leodogran awoke, and Other, and may thy Queen be one with sent Ulfius, and Brastias and Bedivere, Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved And honour'd most, Sir Lancelot, to ride forth And bring the Queen ;-and watch'd him from the gates: And Lancelot past away among the flowers, (For then was latter April) and return'd Among the flowers, in May, with Guine vere. To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint, Chief of the church in Britain, and before The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King thee, 'Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May; Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd away! That morn was married, while in stainless Blow thro' the living world-"Let the white, The fair beginners of a nobler time, And glorying in their vows and him, his knights. Stood round him, and rejoicing in his joy. Far shone the fields of May thro' open door, The sacred altar blossom'd white with May, The Sun of May descended on their King, They gazed on all earth's beauty in their Queen, Roll'd 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. death!' Let chance what will, I love thee to the Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! To whom the Queen replied with drooping Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the King reign. eyes, Strode in, and claim'd their tribute as of The heathen hordes, and made a realm THE last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring LANCELOT AND ELAINE. THE HOLY GRAIL. PELLEAS AND ETTARRE. THE LAST TOURNAMENT. The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know, Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall Stared at the spate. A slender-shafted | Linger with vacillating obedience, Pine Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd 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 Prison'd, and kept and coax'd 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 And mine is living blood: thou dost His To weary her ears with one continuous nor knows. No more; nor sees, nor hears, nor speaks, That evermore she long❜d to hide herself, Nor fronted man or woman, eye to eyeYea-some she cleaved to, but they died of her. And both thy brethren are in Arthur's hall, And thee, mine innocent, the jousts, the wars, Who never knewest finger-ache, nor pang Of wrench'd 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's forgetfulness Stay, my best son ! ye are yet more boy No more than he, himself; but felt him So when the Queen, who long had sought in vain For hence will I, disguised, and hire my. self To break him from the intent to which To serve with scullions and with kitchen down Silent awhile was Gareth, then replied, | At times the spires and turrets half-way '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; Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the great gate shone Only, that open'd on the field below : Anon, the whole fair city had disappear'd. |