SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT
Yet was his heart immeasurably sad,
For that no questing in his ear he had.
Nay! he saw all. He saw the Curse
That wrapped in ruin the World primeval.
He saw the unborn Universe,
And all its gods coeval.
He saw, and was, all things at once
In Him that is ; he was the stars,
The moons, the meteors, the suns,
All in one net of triune bars;
Inextricably one, inevitably one,
Immeasurable, immutable, immense
Beyond all the wonder that his soul had won
By sense, in spite of sense, and beyond sense.
“Praise God!” quoth Palamede, “ by this
I attain the uttermost of bliss. . . .
God’s wounds! but that I never sought.
The Questing Beast I sware to attain
And all this miracle is naught.
Off on my travels once again !
I keep my youth regained to foil
Old Time that took me in his toil.
I keep my strength regained to chase
The Beast that mocks me now as then
Dear Christ! I pray Thee of Thy grace
Take pity on the forlorn case
Of Palamede the Saracen!”
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