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Page 1 of 11912 · PDF PAGE 10
So halted he his horse, and bent To catch remembrance from the eyes That stared to God, whose ardour sent His radiance from the ruthless skies. Then like a statue still he sate; Nor quivered nerve, nor muscle stirred; While round them flapped insatiate The fell, abominable bird. But coldest horror drave the light From knightly eyes. How pale thy bloom, Thy blood, O brow whereon the night Sits like a serpent on a tomb! For Palamede those eyes beheld The iron image of his own ; On those dead brows a fate he spelled To strike a Gorgon into stone. …
1912 · PDF PAGE 14
She knows him, and black fears bedim Those eyes ; she offers to his gaze The blue-veined breasts that suckled him In childhood’s sweet and solemn days. Weeping she bares the holy womb! Shrieks out the mother’s last appeal : And reads irrevocable doom In those dread eyes of ice and steel. He winds his horn: his warriors pour In thousands on the fenceless foe; The sunset stains their hideous war With crimson bars of after-glow. He winds his horn : the night-stars leap To light ; upspring the sisters seven ; While answering flames illume the deep,…
1912 · PDF PAGE 74
…should hook the Thou.” With that he crossed him, brow and breast, And flung his body from the prow. Anend? Alas! on silver sand Open his eyes; the surf-rings roar. What snorts there, swimming from the land? The Beast that brought him to the shore! “O Beast!” quoth purple Palamede, “ A morister strange as Thou am I. I could not live before, indeed; And now I cannot even die! Who chose me, of the Table Round By miracle acclaimed the chief ? Here, waterlogged and muscle-bound, Marooned upon a coral reef!”
1912 · PDF PAGE 24
18 VI S1r PaLaMepE the Saracen The earth from murder hath released, Is hidden from the eyes of men. Sir Arthur sits again at feast. The holy order burns with zeal : Its fame revives from west to east. Now, following Fortune’s whirling wheel, There comes a dwarf to Arthur's hall, All cased in damascenéd steel. A sceptre and a golden ball He bears, and on his head a crown ; But on his shoulders drapes a pall Of velvet flowing sably down Above his vest of cramoisie. Now doth the king of high renown Demand him of his dignity. Whereat the dwarf begi…
1912 · PDF PAGE 38
…in his woe he went Unto a further field and flood, Aye guided by that wizard’s head, That like a windy moon did scud Before him, winking eyes of red And snapping jaws of white: but then What cared for living or for dead Sir Palamede the Saracen ?
1912 · PDF PAGE 77
…rowing girth— And nothing as the end of all. Yea, even as the Yang-tze rolled Its rapids past him, so the wall Of things brake down; his eyes behold The mighty Beast serenely couched Upon its breast of burnished gold. “ Ah! by Christ's blood!” (his soul avouched), “ Nothing but change (but change!) abides. Death lurks, a leopard curled and crouched,
1912 · PDF PAGE 37
… Palamede in bitter rage Sterte up: “Is this the fool, ’Od wot, To see the like of whom I came From castellated Camelot ?” The sage with eyes of burning flame Cried: “Is it not a miracle? Ay! for with folly travelleth shame, 31
1912 · PDF PAGE 41
…mediate resounds The noise he hath sought so long: appears There quest a thirty couple hounds Within its belly as it bounds. Lifting his eyes, he sees at last The beast he seeks: ’tis like an hart. Ever it courseth far and fast. Sir Palamede is sore aghast, 35
1912 · PDF PAGE 73
…e forehead of the spring. Here in a plunging galleon Sir Palamede, a listless drone, Drifts desperately on—and on— And on—with heart and eyes of stone. The deep-scarred brain of him is healed With wind and sea and star and sun, The assoiling grace that God revealed For gree and bounteous benison. Ah! still he trusts the recreant brain, Thrown in a thousand tourney-justs ; Still he raves on in reason-strain With senseless “oughts” and fatuous “ musts.” “ All the delusions ” (argueth The ass), “all uproars, surely rise From that curst Me whose na…
1912 · PDF PAGE 108
…, the God that raises All our lives to ecstasy !” Sir Palamedes was too wise To mock their gentle wooing; He smiles into their sparkling eyes While they his armour are undoing. “ For who” (quoth he) “ may say that this Is not the mystery I miss?” Soon he is gathered in the dance, And smothered in the flowers.
1912 · PDF PAGE 21
…is teeth to ride—to ride! Three days: the black horse drops and dies. The trappings furnish them a fire, The beast a meal. With dreadful eyes Stare into death the child, the sire. Six days : the gaunt and gallant knight Sees hateful visions in the day. Where are the antient speed and might Were wont to animate that clay? Nine days; they stumble on; no more His strength avails to bear the child. Still hangs the mist, and still before Yawns the immeasurable wild. Twelve days: the end. Afar he spies The mountains stooping to the plain ; A little s…
1912 · PDF PAGE 84
… the sweep of the cold plain Where good Sir Palamede doth lie, Keen on the Beast-slot once again. All day he rode; all night he lay With eyes wide open to the stars, Seeking in many a secret way The key to unlock his prison bars. Beneath him, hark! the marvel sounds! The Beast that questeth horribly. As if a thirty couple hounds Are in his belly questeth he. Beneath him? Heareth he aright? He leaps to’s feet—a wonder shews: Steep dips a stairway from the light To what obscurity God knows. Still never a tremor shakes his soul (God praise thee, k…
1912 · PDF PAGE 79
…n a magick moan; His head bows to the crownéd goat. His wand makes curves and spires in air; The smoke of incense curls and quivers; His eyes fix in a glass-cold stare: The land of Egypt rocks and shivers! “Lo! by thy Gods, O God, I vow To burn the authentic bones and blood Of curst Osiris even now To the dark Nile’s upsurging flood! I cast thee down, oh crowned and throned! To black Amennti’s void profane. Until mine anger be atoned Thou shalt not ever rise again.” 73
1912 · PDF PAGE 92
… the blood shall run right chill —And is not death the Lord of Rest ?) There as he basks upon the cliff He yearns toward the Beast ; his eyes Are moist with love; his lips are fain
1912 · PDF PAGE 29
And smote his bosom murderous. His nails like eagles’ claws were grown ; His eyes were wild and dull; but thus Sir Lancelot spake: “Thy deeds atone By knightly devoir!” He returned That “While the land was overgrown With giant, fiend, and ogre burned My sword ; but now the Paynim bars Are broke, and men to virtue turned : Therefore I sit upon the scars Amid my beard, even as the sun Sits in the company of the stars!” Then Lancelot bade this deed be done, The achievement of the Questing Beast. Which when he spoke that holy one Rose up, and gat h…
1912 · PDF PAGE 59
… pageant breaks, and thunder roars: Down flaps the loathly wing of night. He sees the lonely Breton shores Lapped in the levin: then his eyes See how she shrieking soars and soars Into the starless, stormy skies. Well! well! this lesson will he learn, How music’s mellowing artifice May bid the breast of nature burn And call the gods from star and shrine. So now his sounding courses turn To find an instrument divine Whereon he may pursue his quest. How glitter green his gleeful eyne 53
1912 · PDF PAGE 13
But oh! the eyes of shame! Beneath The tall pavilion’s sapphire shade There sport a band with wand and wreath, Languorous boy and laughing maid. And in the centre is a sight Of hateful love and shameless shame: A recreant Abyssinian knight Sports grossly with a wanton dame. How black and swinish is the knave! His hellish grunt, his bestial grin; Her trilling laugh, her gesture suave, The cool sweat swimming on her skin ! She looks and laughs upon the knight, Then turns to buss the blubber mouth, Draining the dregs of that black blight Of wine t…
1912 · PDF PAGE 22
16 His strength is done; he cannot stir. The child complains—how feebly now! His eyes are blank ; he looks at her; The cold sweat gathers on his brow. To save the world—three days away|! His life in knighthood’s life is furled, And knighthood’s life in his—to-day |— His darling staked against the world | Will he die there, his task undone? Or dare he live, at such a cost? He cries against the impassive sun : The world is dim, is all but lost. Then, with the bitterness of death Cutting his soul, his fingers clench The piteous passage of her brea…