Beneath a world-old yew-tree, darkening half That puff'd the swaying branches into smoke "O brother, I have seen this yew-tree smoke, Spring after spring, for half a hundred years: For never have I known the world without, Nor ever strayed beyond the pale: but thee, Spake thro' the limbs and in the voice, I knew For one of those who eat in Arthur's hall; For good ye are and bad, and like to coins, Some true, some light, but every one of you Nay," said the knight; "for no such passion mine. But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries, And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out Among us in the jousts, while women watch Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength Within us, better offer'd up to Heaven." To whom the monk: "The Holy Grail!—I trust We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here too much We moulder, as to things without I mean, Yet one of your own knights, a guest of ours, Told us of this in our refectory, But spake with such a sadness and so low We heard not half of what he said. What is it? The phantom of a cup that comes and goes ?” "Nay, monk! what phantom?" answer'd Percivale. "The cup, the cup itself, from which our Lord Drank at the last sad supper with his own. This, from the blessed land of Aromat After the day of darkness, when the dead Went wandering o'er Moriah, the good saint, To Glastonbury, where the winter thorn By faith, of all his ills; but then the times Was caught away to Heaven and disappear'd.” To whom the monk: "From our old books I know That Joseph came of old to Glastonbury, And there the heathen Prince, Arviragus, Gave him an isle of marsh whereon to build And there he built with wattles from the marsh A little lonely church in days of yore, For so they say, these books of ours, but seem Mute of this miracle, far as I have read. But who first saw the holy thing to-day?' " "A woman," answered Percivale, 66 a nun, And one no further off in blood from me Than sister; and if ever holy maid With knees of adoration wore the stone, Beat, and she pray'd and fasted all the more. "And he to whom she told her sins, or what Her all but utter whiteness held for sin, A man wellnigh a hundred winters old, Spake often with her of the Holy Grail, A legend handed down thro' five or six, And each of these a hundred winters old, From our Lord's time: and when King Arthur made His table round, and all men's hearts became Clean for a season, surely he had thought That now the Holy Grail would come again; But sin broke out. Ah, Christ, that it would come, And heal the world of all their wickedness! 'O Father!' asked the maiden, 'might it come 1 To me by prayer and fasting?' 'Nay,' said he, Shone, and the wind blew, thro' her, and I thought "For on a day she sent to speak with me. And when she came to speak, behold her eyes Beyond my knowing of them, beautiful, Beyond all knowing of them, wonderful, Beautiful in the light of holiness. |