The Equinox (Volume I, Number III)

Ix Sir PaLaMEDE the Saracen Sailed ever with a favouring wind Unto the smooth and swarthy men That haunt the evil shore of Hind: He queried eager of the quest. “Ay! Ay!” their cunning sages grinned : “Tt shines! It shines! Guess thou the rest! For naught but this our Rishis know.” Sir Palamede his way addressed Unto the woods: they blaze and glow; His lance stabs many a shining blade,’ His sword lays many a flower low That glittering gladdened in the glade. He wrote himself a wanton ass, And to the sea his traces laid, Where many a wavelet on the glass His prowess knows. But deep and deep His futile feet in fury pass, 27