But those first days had golden hours for me,

For then I surely thought he would be king.

"But let me tell thee now another tale:

For Bleys, our Merlin's master, as they say,

Died but of late, and sent his cry to me,

To hear him speak before he left his life.

Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage;

And when I enter'd told me that himself

And Merlin ever served about the King,

Uther, before he died; and on the night

When Uther in Tintagil past away Moaning and wailing for an heir, the

And down the wave and in the flame was borne

A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's feet,

Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried The King!

Here is an heir for Uther!' And the fringe

Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand,

Lash'd at the wizard as he spake the word,

And all at once all round him rose in fire,

So that the child and he were clothed in fire.

And presently thereafter follow'd calm,

Free sky and stars: And this same child,' he said,

Is he who reigns; nor could I part in peace

Till this were told.' And saying this the seer

Went thro' the strait and dreadful

Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows?

Stream'd to the peak, and mingled with the haze

he goes.'

"So Merlin riddling anger'd me;

but thou

Fear not to give this King thine only child,

Guinevere: so great bards of him will sing

Hereafter; and dark sayings from of old

Ranging and ringing thro' the minds of men,

And echo'd by old folk beside their fires

For comfort after their wage-work is done,

Speak of the King; and Merlin in our time

Hath spoken also, not in jest, and

sworn

Tho' men may wound him that he will not die,

But pass, again to come; and then or

now

Utterly smite the heathen underfoot, Till these and all men hail him for their king."

She spake and King Leodogran rejoiced,

But musing "Shall I answer yea or nay?”

Doubted, and drowsed, nodded and slept, and saw,

Dreaming, a slope of land that ever grew,

Field after field, up to a height, the peak Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom king,

Now looming, and now lost; and on the slope

The sword rose, the hind fell, the herd was driven,

Fire glimpsed; and all the land from roof and rick,

In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind,

Ulfius, and Brastias and Bedivere, Back to the court of Arthur answering yea.

Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved

And honor'd most, Sir Lancelot, to ride forth

And bring the Queen; - and watch'd him from the gates:

And Lancelot past away among the flowers,

(For then was latter April) and return'd

Among the flowers, in May, with Guinevere.

To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint,

Chief of the church in Britain, and before

The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King

That morn was married, while in stainless white,

The fair beginners of a nobler time, And glorying in their vows and him, his knights

Stood round him, and rejoicing in his joy.

Far shone the fields of May thro' open door,

The sacred altar blossom'd white with May,

'Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May!

Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day!

THE HOLY GRAIL.

PELLEAS AND ETTARRE.

THE LAST TOURNAMENT. GUINEVERE.

Heaven yield her for it, but in me put

force

To weary her ears with one continuous

prayer,

Until she let me fly, discaged to

sweep

In ever-highering eagle-circles up
To the great Sun of Glory, and thence

swoop

Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,

A knight of Arthur, working out his will,

To cleanse the world. Why, Gawain, when he came

With Modred hither in the summertime,

Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven knight.

Modred for want of worthier was the judge.

Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,

"Thou hast half prevail'd against me,' said so he

Tho' Modred biting his thin lips was mute,

For he is alway sullen: what care I?"

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair

Or whoso'er it was, or half the world Had ventured-had the thing I spake of been

Mere gold- but this was all of that true steel,

Whereof they forged the brand Excalibur,

And lightnings play'd about it in the storm,

And all the little fowl were flurried at it,

And there were cries and clashings in the nest,

That sent him from his senses: let me go."

Then Bellicent bemoan'd herself and said,

"Hast thou no pity upon my loneli