XLI
Sir ARTHUR sits again at feast
Within the high and holy hall
Of Camelot. From West to East
The Table Round hath burst the thrall
Of Paynimrie. The goodliest gree
Sits on the gay knights, one and all ;
Till Arthur: “ Of your chivalry,
Knights, let us drink the happiness
Of the one knight we lack ” (quoth he) ;
“ For surely in some sore distress
May be Sir Palamede.” Then they
Rose as one man in glad liesse
To honour that great health. ‘“God’s way
Is not as man’s” (quoth Lancelot).
“Yet, may God send him back this day,
His quest achieved, to Camelot!”
“ Amen!” they cried, and raised the bow! ;
When—the wind rose, a blast as hot
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