Launcelot And Gawaine

*

An Arthurian Miscellany
Two women loved a poet. One was dark,

Luxuriant with the beauty of the south,

A heart of fire--and this one he forsook.

The other slender, tall, with wide gray eyes,

Who loved him with a still intensity

That made her heart a shrine--to her he clave,

And he was faithful to her to the end.

And when the poet died, a song was found

Which he had writ, of Launcelot and Gawaine;

And when the women read it, one cried out:

"Where got he Launcelot? Gawaine I know--

He drew that picture from a looking-glass--

Sleek, lying, treacherous, golden-tongued Gawaine!"

The other, smiling, murmured "Launcelot!"