Behold, my judges, then the cloths were brought;

While I was dizzied thus, old thoughts would crowd,

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Belonging to the time ere I was bought By Arthur's great name and his little love:

Must I give up for ever then, I thought, "That which I deemed would ever round me move

Glorifying all things; for a little word, Scarce ever meant at all, must I now prove

"Stone-cold for ever? Pray you, does the Lord

Will that all folks should be quite happy and good?

I love God now a little, if this cord "Were broken, once for all what striving could

Make me love anything in earth or heaven?

So day by day it grew, as if one should

"Slip slowly down some path worn smooth and even,

Down to a cool sea on a summer day; Yet still in slipping there was some small leaven

“Of stretched hands catching small stones by the way,

Until one surely reached the sea at last, And felt strange new joy as the worn head lay

"Back, with the hair like sea-weed; yea all past

Sweat of the forehead, dryness of the lips, Washed utterly out by the dear waves o'ercast,

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I was right joyful of that wall of stone, That shut the flowers and trees up with the sky,

And trebled all the beauty to the bone,

"Yea right through to my heart, grown very shy

With wary thoughts, it pierced, and made me glad ;

Exceedingly glad, and I knew verily,

"A little thing just then had made me mad;

I dared not think, as I was wont to do, Sometimes, upon my beauty; If I had

"Held out my long hand up against the blue,

And, looking on the tenderly darken'd fingers,

Thought that by rights one ought to see quite through,

"There, see you, where the soft still

light yet lingers,

"And startling green drawn upward by the sun?

But shouting, loosed out, see now! all my hair,

And trancedly stood watching the west wind run

"With faintest half-heard breathing sound why there

I lose my head e'en now in doing this; But shortly listen: In that garden fair

"Came Launcelot walking; this is true, the kiss

Wherewith we kissed in meeting that spring day,

I scarce dare talk of the remember'd bliss,

"When both our mouths went wandering in one way,

And aching sorely, met among the leaves;

Our hands being left behind strained far away.

"Never within a yard of my bright sleeves

'Do I not see how God's dear pity creeps All through your frame, and trembles in your mouth?

Remember in what grave your mother sleeps,

"Buried in some place far down in the south

Men are forgetting as I speak to you; By her head sever'd in that awful drouth

"Of pity that drew Agravaine's fell blow, I pray your pity! let me not scream out Forever after, when the shrill winds blow "Through half your castle-locks! let me not shout

For ever after in the winter night When you ride out alone! in battle-rout

"Let not my rusting tears make your sword light!

Ah! God of mercy, how he turns away! So, ever must I dress me to the fight,