The Defence of Guenevere and Other Poems. William Morris

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      To mock that face, fretted with useless care,

       And bitter useless striving after love?

       O Palomydes, with much honour bear

       Beast Glatysaunt upon your shield, above

      Your helm that hides the swinging of your hair,

       And think of Iseult, as your sword drives through

       Much mail and plate: O God, let me be there

       A little time, as I was long ago!

      Because stout Gareth lets his spear fall low,

       Gauwaine and Launcelot, and Dinadan

       Are helm'd and waiting; let the trumpets go!

       Bend over, ladies, to see all you can!

      Clench teeth, dames, yea, clasp hands, for Gareth's spear

       Throws Kay from out his saddle, like a stone

       From a castle-window when the foe draws near:

       Iseult! Sir Dinadan rolleth overthrown.

      Iseult! again: the pieces of each spear

       Fly fathoms up, and both the great steeds reel;

       Tristram for Iseult! Iseult! and Guenevere!

       The ladies' names bite verily like steel.

      They bite: bite me, Lord God! I shall go mad,

       Or else die kissing him, he is so pale,

       He thinks me mad already, O bad! bad!

       Let me lie down a little while and wail.'

      'No longer so, rise up, I pray you, love,

       And slay me really, then we shall be heal'd,

       Perchance, in the aftertime by God above.'

       'Banner of Arthur, with black-bended shield

      Sinister-wise across the fair gold ground!

       Here let me tell you what a knight you are,

       O sword and shield of Arthur! you are found

       A crooked sword, I think, that leaves a scar

      On the bearer's arm, so be he thinks it straight,

       Twisted Malay's crease beautiful blue-grey,

       Poison'd with sweet fruit; as he found too late,

       My husband Arthur, on some bitter day!

      O sickle cutting hemlock the day long!

       That the husbandman across his shoulder hangs,

       And, going homeward about evensong,

       Dies the next morning, struck through by the fangs!

      Banner, and sword, and shield, you dare not die,

       Lest you meet Arthur in the other world,

       And, knowing who you are, he pass you by,

       Taking short turns that he may watch you curl'd,

      Body and face and limbs in agony,

       Lest he weep presently and go away,

       Saying: I loved him once, with a sad sigh,

       Now I have slain him, Lord, let me go too, I pray.

       [Launcelot falls.

      Alas! alas! I know not what to do,

       If I run fast it is perchance that I

       May fall and stun myself, much better so,

       Never, never again! not even when I die.'

      Launcelot, on awaking.

      'I stretch'd my hands towards her and fell down,

       How long I lay in swoon I cannot tell:

       My head and hands were bleeding from the stone,

       When I rose up, also I heard a bell.'

SIR GALAHAD, A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY

       Table of Contents

SIR GALAHAD, A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY

       Table of Contents

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