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Page 1 of 11912 · PDF PAGE 91
…he wits of Palamedes float In ecstasy of shame and rage. “O Thou!” exclaims the baffled sage; “ How should I match Thee? Yet, I will so, Though Doomisday devour the Age. Weeping, and beating on his breast, Gnashing his teeth, he still confessed The might of the dread oath that bound him: He would not yet give up the quest. “Nay! while I am,” quoth he, “ though Hell Engulph me, though God mock me well, I follow as I sware; I follow, Though it be unattainable. Nay, more! Because I may not win, Is’t worth man’s work to enter in! The Infinite with …
1912 · PDF PAGE 85
…od knight is aware Of some black force, of some dread throne, Waiting beneath that awful stair, Beneath that pit of slippery stone. Yea! though he sees not anything, Nor hears, his subtle sense is ’ware That, lackeyed by the devil-king, The Beast—the Questing Beast—is there| So though his heart beats close with fear, Though horror grips his throat, he goes, Goes on to meet it, spear to spear, ; As good knight should, to face his foes. Nay! but the end is come. Black earth Belches that peerless Paladin Up from her gulphs—untimely birth! —Her hor…
1912 · PDF PAGE 99
… no shape, no voice had it Wherewith to daunt the eye or ear; Yet all the horror of the pit Clad it with all the arms of fear. Moreover, though he sought to scan Some feature, though he listened long, No shape of God or fiend or man, No whisper, groan, shriek, scream, or song Gave him to know it. Now it chanced One day Sir Palamedes rode Through a great wood whose leafage danced In the thin sunlight as it flowed From heaven. He halted in a glade, Bade his horse crop the tender grass; Put off his armour, softly laid Himself to sleep till noon sh…
1912 · PDF PAGE 16
10 But day by day the foes increase, Though day by day their thousands fall: Laughs the unshaken fortalice ; The good knights laugh no more at all. Grimmer than heathen hordes can scowl, The spectre hunger rages there; He passes like a midnight owl, Hooting his heraldry, despair. The knights and squires of Palamede Stalk pale and lean through court and hall; Though sharp and swift the archers speed Their yardlong arrows from the wall. Their numbers thin; their strength decays; Their fate is written plain to read. These are the dread deciduous d…
1912 · PDF PAGE 49
…e his archer skill. All night he sits, with ardour strange And hope new-fledged. A gambler born Aye thinks the luck one day must change, Though sense and skill he laughs to scorn. So now there rush a thousand rats In sable silence on the corn. They sport their square or shovel hats, A squeaking, tooth-bare brotherhood, Innumerable as summer gnats 43
1912 · PDF PAGE 119
…ste 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 ! 113
1912 · PDF PAGE 19
Though one by one the heroes fall, Their desperate way they slowly win, And knightly cry and comrade-call Rise high above the savage din. Now, now they land, a dwindling crew ; Now, now fresh armies hem them round. They cleave their blood-bought avenue, And cluster on the upper ground. Ah! but dawn’s dreadful front uprears ! The tall towers blaze, to illume the fight; While many a myriad heathen spears March northward at the earliest light. Falls thy last comrade at thy feet, O lordly-souled Sir Palamede? Tearing the savage from his seat, He le…
1912 · PDF PAGE 112
…s head upon) The devastating avalanche? He knows too much, and cares too little! His wound is more than Death can staunch. He can avoid, though by one tittle, Thy surest shaft! And now the knight, Breasting the crags, may laugh and whittle Away the demon-club whose might Threatened him. Now he leaves the spur; And eager, with a boy’s delight,
1912 · PDF PAGE 6
…n. xxxv. He lectureth upon metaphysics—for he is now totally insane—to many learned monks of Cantabrig. They applaud him and detain him, though he hath heard the questing and would away. But so feeble is he that he fleeth by night. xxxvi, It hath often happened to Sir Palamede that he is haunted by a shadow, the which he may not recognise. But at last, in a sunlit wood, this is discovered to be a certain hunchback, who doubteth whether there be at all any Beast or any quest, or if the whole life of Sir Palamede be not a vain illusion. Him, with…