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An Arthurian Miscellany
The ark of the Lord of Hosts

Whose name is called by the name of Him

Who dwelleth between the Cherubim.

O Thou that in no house dost dwell,

But walk'st in tent and tabernacle.

For God of all strokes will have one

In every battle that is done.

Lancelot lay beside the well:

(God's Graal is good)

Oh my soul is sad to tell

The weary quest and the bitter quell;

For he was the lord of lordlihood

And sleep on his eyelids fell.

Lancelot lay before the shrine;

(The apple tree's in the wood)

There was set Christ's very sign,

The bread unknown and the unknown wine

That the soul's life for a livelihood

Craves from his wheat and vine.