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answer answer'd arms Arthur beast beat beauty behold blood bound brother brought child close cried dark dead death died door dreams earth eyes face fair falling fell field fire follow Galahad Gawain give glanced glory Gods golden half hall hand hast hath hear heard heart heathen heaven hold holy Holy Grail horse hour king knew knights lady Lancelot land leave light live looking Lord lost Merlin mind moon moved never once pass past Pelleas Percivale proputty Queen quest rest rode rose round seem'd seen side Sir Bedivere Sir Bors spake speak stars stood strange sweet sword Table tell thee thine things thou thought thro till told Uther vision voice walls waste wife wind
Page 144 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
Page 141 - Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels. — And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake, And the long glories of the winter moon.
Page 165 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Page 143 - Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere, "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight.
Page 130 - And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land: On one side...
Page 135 - And if indeed I cast the brand away, Surely a precious thing, one worthy note, Should thus be lost for ever from the earth, Which might have pleased the eyes of many men.
Page 138 - The great brand Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock By night, with noises of the northern sea. So...
Page 145 - So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groan'd, "The King is gone.
Page 142 - A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then murmur'd Arthur, 'Place me in the barge,