SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT
His hand upon the Beast. Then blew
Each angel on his trumpet, then
All Heaven resounded that it knew
Sir Palamede the Saracen
Was master! Through the domes of death,
Through all the mighty realms of men
And spirits breathed the Beauteous Breath :
They taste the Goodly Gift of Grace.
—Now ’tis the chronicler that saith:
Our Saviour grant in little space
That also I, even I, be blest
Thus, though so evil is my case—
Let them that read my rime attest
The same sweet unction in my pen—
That writes in pure blood of my breast;
For that I figure unto men
The story of my proper quest
As thine, first Eastern in the West,
Sir Palamede the Saracen !