The Holy Grail: And Other Poems

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Fields, Osgood, 1870 - 202 psl.

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143 psl. - TABLE is dissolved, Which was an image of the mighty world ; And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
165 psl. - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
132 psl. - Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : "The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep — the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were.
164 psl. - Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
134 psl. - And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : " I heard the ripple washing in the reeds, And the wild water lapping on the crag.
23 psl. - But when he spake and cheer'd his Table Round With large divine and comfortable words Beyond my tongue to tell thee — I beheld From eye to eye thro...
142 psl. - A cry that shivered to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come since the making of the world. Then murmur'd Arthur, " Place me in the barge ;
144 psl. - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
151 psl. - as munny an' all — wot's a beauty? — the flower as blaws. But proputty, proputty sticks, an' proputty, proputty graws. Do'ant be stunt; taake time. I knaws what maakes tha sa mad. Warn't I craazed fur the lasses mysen when I wur a lad? But I knaw'da Quaaker feller as often 'as towd ma this: 'Doant thou marry for munny, but goa wheer munny is!" An' I went wheer munny war; an' thy muther coom to 'and, Wi' lots o' munny laaid by, an' a nicetish bit o
131 psl. - Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights, And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land. On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full.

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