Page:Once a Week Dec 1861 to June 1862.pdf/360

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We are the wanton lords and knights,
Who lived lewd lives of soft delights,
And first brought thoughts unstable
Unto the good Round Table."

XXII.

Faster and faster sped the boat,

While spicy perfumes filled the sail,
And dumb Sir Tristem lay afloat,
Caparison'd in shining mail;
And in his trance he sat afar
A twilight like the morning star,
Beyond the mirror'd shadows
Of cool green hills and meadows.

XXIII.

The murmuring waters closed behind,

The channel narrow'd on either side,
Making a current swift as wind,
To suck him onward. Far and wide
Lay pleasant hills of yellow and green,
With shady tales of hills between;
And the white light that crowned him
Subdued the joy around him.

XXIV

And on the summer hills around

Were happy shepherds and their flocks,
And the cool streamlets made a sound
As soft as tears down mossy rocks;
And in the broad midmorn on high
Stars swung their censers from the sky,
Whence, in a pearly wonder,
Dews dropp'd and glimmered under.

XXV.

There was a busy hum of bees,

And bleating sheep on distant heights;
And underneath the shade of trees
Walked snowy dames and arméd knights.
Then good Sir Tristem opened eyes,
And heard a whispering voice, "Arise,"
And patient to his duty,
He stood erect in beauty.

XXVI.

Caparison'd from head to heel,

He stood erect and found no speech
To utter wonder, till the keel
Grazed softly on a silver beech;
And a soft breeze, like the sweet south,
Beat balm upon his eyes and mouth,
And while his blood flushed brightly,
He to the shore leapt lightly.

XXVII.

Then, lifting up a mailéd head,

Hoary with honours past and gone,
He knelt upon the beach, and said:
"Here, surely, is Avilion;
Here, after honourable blows,
A worthy knight may find repose,
Here the sweet vale makes bridal
With heaven, and nought seems idle.

XXVIII.

"Hither, to shade of quiet leaves,

I bring the mind no fortunes flout,
Which half confers and half perceives
The peace it sees around about;
Here day and night at last unite
To make a very calm delight
Of beautiful romances,
Cool pulses, and pure fancies.

XXIX.

"Here Nature is her own sweet law,

Beauty completes her mission here!"
When, rising up his height, he saw
A train in white attire draw near!
And in the midst, in peaceful power,
He saw of kings, the lily-white flower,
Prepared to be the donor
Of a white robe of honour.

Williams Buchanan.