Chapter VI

When rose the moon, and far away
A nightingale beneath the tower,
Heard through the fountain's falling spray,
Made lonelier yet that lonely hour;
And 'twixt the nodding grove and lake
A glimmering fawn stalked through the night,
And snuffed the wind, then bent to slake
Its thirst; she veiled her face,--as white
As death's,--and said: "The way is clear!
There is no use in waiting here!
Come! let me cure this heart that bursts!
This pain is more than I can bear!--
Come! let me still this soul that thirsts!...
Upon the lake, as thick as stars
In heav'n, the lilies lie asleep.--
There lies a way beyond these bars,
These walls of flesh that hold and keep!
The nightingale shall find its mate,
The fawn its fellow, and must I,
The spouse of grief, the wife of hate,
Live on alone until I die?--
How long, how long, O God, to wait!"...
Far through the darkness went her cry.

THE DREAM OF SIR GALAHAD

_With the knights Peredur and Gawain he sits, in a chapel in Lyonesse, speaking while the dawn slowly reddens on the sea, gray-seen through the open door._

I

Cast on sleep there came to me
Three great angels, o'er the sea
Moaning near the priory:
Cloudy clad in awful white,
Each one's face, a lucid light,
Rayed and blossomed out of night.

II

In my sleep I saw them rest,
Each, a long hand on her breast,
Like the new-moon in the west:
And their hair like sunset rolled
Down their shoulders, burning cold,
An insufferable gold.

III

Flaming round each high brow bent
Fourfold starry gold, that sent
Light before them as they went:
'Neath their burning crowns their eyes
Shone like awful stars the skies
Rock in shattered storm that flies.

IV

Dark their eyes were, lurid dark;
And within their eyes a spark
Like the opal's burned: my sark
Seemed to shrivel 'neath their gaze;
As, with marvel and amaze,
All my soul it seemed to raise.

V

And I saw their mouths were fire,
Ruby-red as the desire
Of the Sanc Graal: fair and dire
Were their lips, whereon the kiss
Of all Heaven lay; the bliss
Of all happiness that is.

VI

Calm as Beauty lying dead,
Tapers lit at feet and head,
Were they, round whom prayers seemed said:
Fragrant as that woman who,
Born of blossoms and of dew
And of magic, wedded Llew.

VII

And the first one said to me:--
"Thou hast slept thus holily
While seven sands ran shadowy;
Earth hath served thee like a slave,
Serving us who found thee brave,
Pure of life and great to save:

VIII

"Know!"--She touched my brow: a pain
As of arrows pierced my brain:
Ceased: and earth, both sea and plain,
Vanished: and I stood where thought
Stands, and worship, spirit-fraught,
Watching how the heavens are wrought.

IX

Then the second said to me:
"Thou hast come all sinlessly
Thro' life's sin-enveloped sea:
Know the things thou hast not seen:
Filling all the soul with sheen;
Meaning more than earth may mean:

X

"See!"--Her voice sang like a lyre,
Comprehending all desire
In its gamut's throbbing fire:--
And my inner eyelids,--which
Dimmed clairvoyance,--raised: and rich,
As one chord's vibrating pitch,

XI

Grew my soul with light: that saw
The embodiment of awe,
Love, divinity, and law,
Orbed and eöned: and the power,
Circumstance, like some vast flower;
From which time fell, hour on hour.

XII

'Neath the third one's mighty will
All my soul lay very still,
Feeling all its being thrill
As she, smiling, said to me:
"Thou dost know, and thou canst see:
What thou art arise and be!"

XIII

To my lips her lips she pressed;
And my new-born soul, thrice-blessed,
Clasped her radiance and caressed:
Mounted and, in glory clad,
Soared with them who chorused glad:
"Christ awaits thee, Galahad!"

AFTER THE TOURNAMENT

_The good Knight_, SIR LIONELL DE GANIS, _wounded unto death, addresses his Lady_, EVALOTT, _in the Forest of Dean, whither he has been borne on his shield_.

I

And shall it be, when white thorns flake
With blossoms all the Maytime brake,
The rustle of a flower or leaf
Will let thee know
That I am near thee, as thy grief,
As long ago?

II

Or shall it be, when blows and dies
The wood-anemone, two eyes
Will gaze in thine, as faint as frost?
And thou, in dreams,
Wilt hear the sigh of one long lost,
Who near thee seems.

III

Or shall it be, where waters soothe
The stillness, thou wilt hear the smooth
Dim notes of a familiar lute,
And in thine ears
Old Provence melodies, long mute,
Like falling tears?...

IV

Now doff my helm.--Loop thy white arm
Beneath my hair. So. Let thy warm
Blue eyes gaze in mine for a space,
A little while...
Love, it will rest me... And thy face--
Ah, let it smile.