Not swaying to this faction or to that; Not making his high place the lawless perch

Of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantageground

For pleasure; but thro' all this tract of years

Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,

Before a thousand peering littlenesses, In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,

And blackens every blot: for where is he,

Who dares foreshadow for an only son A lovelier life, a more unstain'd, than his?

Or how should England dreaming of his sons

Hope more for these than some inheritance

Of such a life, a heart, a mind as thine, Thou noble Father of her Kings to be, Laborious for her people and her

For first Aurelius lived and fought and died,

And after him King Uther fought and died,

But either fail'd to make the kingdom

one.

And after these King Arthur for a space,

And thro' the puissance of his Table Round,

Drew all their petty princedoms under him,

Their king and head, and made a realm, and reign'd.

And thus the land of Cameliard was waste,

Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein,

And none or few to scare or chase the beast;

So that wild dog, and wolf and boar and bear

Came night and day, and rooted in the fields,

And wallow'd in the gardens of the

King.

And ever and anon the wolf would steal

The children and devour, but now and then,

Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat

To human sucklings; and the children, housed

In her foul den, there at their meat would growl,

And mock their foster-mother on four feet,

Till, straighten'd, they grew up to wolf-like men,

Worse than the wolves. And King Leodogran

Groan'd for the Roman legions here again,

And Cæsar's eagle: then his brother

king,

Urien, assail'd him: last a heathen horde,

came.

earth with blood,

And on the spike that split the mother's heart

Spitting the child, brake on him, till, amazed,

He knew not whither he should turn for aid.

But for he heard of Arthur newly

crown'd,

Tho' not without an uproar made by those

Who cried, "He is not Uther's son" the King

Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and help us thou!

For here between the man and beast we die."

And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms,

But heard the call, and came: and Guinevere

Stood by the castle walls to watch him pass;

But since he neither wore on helm or shield

The golden symbol of his kinglihood, But rode a simple knight among his knights,

And many of these in richer arms than he,

She saw him not, or mark'd not, if she

saw,

One among many, tho' his face was

bare.

But Arthur, looking downward as he past,

Felt the light of her eyes into his life Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and pitch'd His tents beside the forest. Then he drave

The heathen; after, slew the beast, and fell'd

The forest, letting in the sun, and

made

Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight

And so return'd.

For while he linger'd there, A doubt that ever smoulder'd in the

hearts

Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm

Flash'd forth and into war: for most of these,

Colleaguing with a score of petty kings,

Made head against him, crying,." Who is he

That he should rule us? who hath proven him

King Uther's son? for lo! we look at him,

And find nor face nor bearing, limbs nor voice,

Are like to those of Uther whom we knew.

This is the son of Gorloïs, not the King;

This is the son of Anton, not the King."