by Dinah Roe
20 I could not even weep.
With inward sigh I see the sun
Fade off the pillars one by one,
My heart faints when the day is done,
Because I cannot sleep.
25 Sometimes strange thoughts pass through my
head;
Not like a tomb is this my bed,
Yet oft I think that I am dead;
That round my tomb is writ,
‘Ozana of the hardy heart,
30 Knight of the Table Round,
Pray for his soul, lords, of your part;
A true knight he was found.’
Ah! me, I cannot fathom it. [He sleeps.]
SIR GALAHAD
All day long and every day,
35 Till his madness pass’d away,
I watch’d Ozana as he lay
Within the gilded screen.
All my singing moved him not;
As I sung my heart grew hot,
40 With the thought of Launcelot
Far away, I ween.
So I went a little space
From out the chapel, bathed my face
In the stream that runs apace
45 By the churchyard wall.
There I pluck’d a faint wild rose,
Hard by where the linden grows,
Sighing over silver rows
Of the lilies tall.
50 I laid the flower across his mouth;
The sparkling drops seem’d good for drouth;
He smiled, turn’d round towards the south,
Held up a golden tress.
The light smote on it from the west:
55 He drew the covering from his breast,
Against his heart that hair he prest;
Death him soon will bless.
SIR BORS
I entered by the western door;
I saw a knight’s helm lying there:
60 I raised my eyes from off the floor,
And caught the gleaming of his hair.
I stept full softly up to him;
I laid my chin upon his head;
I felt him smile; my eyes did swim,
65 I was so glad he was not dead.
I heard Ozana murmur low,
‘There comes no sleep nor any love.’
But Galahad stoop’d and kiss’d his brow:
He shiver’d; I saw his pale lips move.
SIR OZANA
70 There comes no sleep nor any love;
Ah me! I shiver with delight.
I am so weak I cannot move;
God move me to thee, dear, to-night!
Christ help! I have but little wit:
75 My life went wrong; I see it writ,
‘Ozana of the hardy heart,
Knight of the Table Round,
Pray for his soul, lords, on your part;
A good knight he was found.’
80 Now I begin to fathom it. [He dies.]
SIR BORS
Galahad sits dreamily;
What strange things may his eyes see,
Great blue eyes fix’d full on me?
On his soul, Lord, have mercy.
SIR GALAHAD
85 Ozana, shall I pray for thee?
Her cheek is laid to thine;
No long time hence, also I see
Thy wasted fingers twine
Within the tresses of her hair
90 That shineth gloriously,
Thinly outspread in the clear air
Against the jasper sea.
Riding Together
For many, many days together
The wind blew steady from the East;
For many days hot grew the weather,
About the time of our Lady’s Feast.
5 For many days we rode together,
Yet met we neither friend nor foe;
Hotter and clearer grew the weather,
Steadily did the East wind blow.
We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather,
10 Clear-cut, with shadows very black,
As freely we rode on together
With helms unlaced and bridles slack.
And often as we rode together,
We, looking down the green-bank’d stream,
15 Saw flowers in the sunny weather,
And saw the bubble-making bream.
And in the night lay down together,
And hung above our heads the rood,
Or watch’d night-long in the dewy weather,
20 The while the moon did watch the wood.
Our spears stood bright and thick together,
Straight out the banners stream’d behind,
As we gallop’d on in the sunny weather,
With faces turn’d towards the wind.
25 Down sank our threescore spears together,
As thick we saw the pagans ride;
His eager face in the clear fresh weather,
Shone out that last time by my side.
Up the sweep of the bridge we dash’d together,
30 It rock’d to the crash of the meeting spears,
Down rain’d the buds of the dear spring weather,
The elm-tree flowers fell like tears.
There, as we roll’d and writhed together,
I threw my arms above my head,
35 For close by my side, in the lovely weather,
I saw him reel and fall back dead.
I and the slayer met together,
He waited the death-stroke there in his place,
With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather,
40 Gapingly mazed at my madden’d face.
Madly I fought as we fought together;
In vain: the little Christian band
The pagans drown’d, as in stormy weather,
The river drowns low-lying land.
45 They bound my blood-stain’d hands together,
They bound his corpse to nod by my side:
Then on we rode, in the bright March weather,
With clash of cymbals did we ride.
We ride no more, no more together;
50 My prison-bars are thick and strong,
I take no heed of any weather,
The sweet Saints grant I live not long.
The Defence of Guenevere
But, knowing now that they would have her speak,
She threw her wet hair backward from her brow,
Her hand close to her mouth touching her cheek,
As though she had had there a shameful blow,
5 And feeling it shameful to feel ought but shame
All through her heart, yet felt her cheek burned so,
She must a little touch it; like one lame
She walked away from Gauwaine, with her head
Still lifted up; and on her cheek of flame
10 The tears dried quick; she stopped at last and said:
‘O knights and lords, it seems but little skill
To talk of well-known things past now and dead.
‘God wot I ought to say, I have done ill,
And pray you all forgiveness heartily!
15 Because you must be right such great lords – still
‘Listen, suppose your time were come to die,
And you were quite alone and very weak;
Yea, laid a dying while very mightily
‘The wind was ruffling up the narrow streak
20 Of river through your broad lands running well:
Suppose a hush should come, then some one speak:
‘ “One of these cloths is heaven, and one is hell,
Now choose one cloth for ever, which they be,
I will not tell you, you must somehow tell
25 ‘ “Of your own strength and mightiness; here, see!”
Yea, yea, my lord, and you to ope your eyes,
At foot of your familiar bed to see
‘A great God’s angel standing, with such dyes,
Not known on earth, on his great wings, and hands,
30 Held
out two ways, light from the inner skies
‘Showing him well, and making his commands
Seem to be God’s commands, moreover, too,
Holding within his hands the cloths on wands;
‘And one of these strange choosing cloths was blue,
35 Wavy and long, and one cut short and red;
No man could tell the better of the two.
‘After a shivering half-hour you said,
“God help! heaven’s colour, the blue;” and he said, “hell.”
Perhaps you then would roll upon your bed,
40 ‘And cry to all good men that loved you well,
“Ah Christ! if only I had known, known, known;”
Launcelot went away, then I could tell,
‘Like wisest man how all things would be, moan,
And roll and hurt myself, and long to die,
45 And yet fear much to die for what was sown.
‘Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie,
Whatever may have happened through these years,
God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.’
Her voice was low at first, being full of tears,
50 But as it cleared, it grew full loud and shrill,
Growing a windy shriek in all men’s ears,
A ringing in their startled brains, until
She said that Gauwaine lied, then her voice sunk,
And her great eyes began again to fill,
55 Though still she stood right up, and never shrunk,
But spoke on bravely, glorious lady fair!
Whatever tears her full lips may have drunk,
She stood, and seemed to think, and wrung her hair,
Spoke out at last with no more trace of shame,
60 With passionate twisting of her body there:
‘It chanced upon a day that Launcelot came
To dwell at Arthur’s court: at Christmas-time
This happened; when the heralds sung his name,
‘ “Son of King Ban of Benwick,” seemed to chime
65 Along with all the bells that rang that day,
O’er the white roofs, with little change of rhyme.
‘Christmas and whitened winter passed away,
And over me the April sunshine came,
Made very awful with black hail-clouds, yea
70 ‘And in the Summer I grew white with flame,
And bowed my head down – Autumn, and the sick
Sure knowledge things would never be the same,
‘However often Spring might be most thick
Of blossoms and buds, smote on me, and I grew
75 Careless of most things, let the clock tick, tick,
‘To my unhappy pulse, that beat right through
My eager body; while I laughed out loud,
And let my lips curl up at false or true,
‘Seemed cold and shallow without any cloud.
80 Behold my judges, then the cloths were brought:
While I was dizzied thus, old thoughts would crowd,
‘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,
85 ‘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?
90 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,
95 Down to a cool sea on a summer day;
Yet still in slipping was there 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
100 ‘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
‘In the lone sea, far off from any ships!
Do I not know now of a day in Spring?
105 No minute of that wild day ever slips
‘From out my memory; I hear thrushes sing,
And wheresoever I may be, straightway
Thoughts of it all come up with most fresh sting;
‘I was half mad with beauty on that day,
110 And went without my ladies all alone,
In a quiet garden walled round every way;
‘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,
115 ‘Yea right through to my heart, grown very shy
With weary 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,
120 Sometimes, upon my beauty; if I had
‘Held out my long hand up against the blue,
And, looking on the tenderly darkened fingers,
Thought that by rights one ought to see quite through,
‘There, see you, where the soft still light yet lingers,
125 Round by the edges; what should I have done,
If this had joined with yellow spotted singers,
‘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
130 ‘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,
135 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
140 Had Launcelot come before – and now, so nigh!
After that day why is it Guenevere grieves?
‘Nevertheless you, O Sir Gauwaine, lie,
Whatever happened on through all those years,
God knows I speak truth, saying that you lie.
145 ‘Being such a lady could I weep these tears
If this were true? A great queen such as I
Having sinn’d this way, straight her conscience sears;
‘And afterwards she liveth hatefully,
Slaying and poisoning, certes never weeps, –
150 Gauwaine be friends now, speak me lovingly.
‘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,
155 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
For ever after, when the shrill winds blow
160 ‘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!
165 So, ever must I dress me to the fight,
‘So – let God’s justice work! Gauwaine, I say,
See me hew down your proofs: yea all men kn
ow
Even as you said how Mellyagraunce one day,
‘One bitter day in la Fausse Garde, for so
170 All good knights held it after, saw –
Yea, sirs, by cursed unknightly outrage; though
‘You, Gauwaine, held his word without a flaw,
This Mellyagraunce saw blood upon my bed –
Whose blood then pray you? is there any law
175 ‘To make a queen say why some spots of red
Lie on her coverlet? or will you say,
“Your hands are white, lady, as when you wed,
‘ “Where did you bleed?” and must I stammer out – “Nay,
I blush indeed, fair lord, only to rend
180 My sleeve up to my shoulder, where there lay
‘ “A knife-point last night:” so must I defend
The honour of the lady Guenevere?
Not so, fair lords, even if the world should end
‘This very day, and you were judges here
185 Instead of God. Did you see Mellyagraunce
When Launcelot stood by him? what white fear
‘Curdled his blood, and how his teeth did dance,
His side sink in? as my knight cried and said,
“Slayer of unarm’d men, here is a chance!
190 ‘ “Setter of traps, I pray you guard your head,
By God I am so glad to fight with you,
Stripper of ladies, that my hand feels lead
‘ “For driving weight; hurrah now! draw and do,
For all my wounds are moving in my breast,
195 And I am getting mad with waiting so.”
‘He struck his hands together o’er the beast,
Who fell down flat, and grovell’d at his feet,
And groan’d at being slain so young – “at least.”
‘My knight said, “Rise you, sir, who are so fleet
200 At catching ladies, half-arm’d will I fight,
My left side all uncovered!” then I weet,
‘Up sprang Sir Mellyagraunce with great delight
Upon his knave’s face; not until just then
Did I quite hate him, as I saw my knight