Arthur In Avalon

*
An Arthurian Miscellany

I.

Stricken of man, and sore beset of Fate,

He lies amid the groves of Avalon;

What comfort mete ye unto Uther's son,

O mournful Queens? What styptic to abate

Life's eager stream? Alas, not theirs to sate

His soul with earthly vision! he hath done

With mortal life, and chivalry's bright sun

Is darkened by the powers of hell and hate.

Lo! now, the garden of his agony

Is very sweet, though dread the hour, and drear

With utterless spell of horrid potency;

The barrd east beyond the brightening sea,

Thick with portentous wraiths of phantom fear,

Is flushed with triumph, stirred with melody.

Ii.

\"Glory of knighthood; that through Lyonesse

Was as a lamp, O selfless soul and pure,

What though thy visionary rule endure

So ill the assault of envy? Not the less

Thy victory, though failure thee oppress;

Not sterile thy example, and most sure

The seeded fruit; with might thou shalt allure

For evermore through life's embattled press

Thy spiritual sons to follow thee;"

The mystic Four their solemn vigil keep

Until day break, and eastward silently,

Over the kingless land and wailing deep,

The sacrificial symbol fire the sky;

Then they arise, no more to watch and weep.