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The Sangreal
by [?]

And he spake with speech more true
Than his thought indeed,
For not yet the good knight knew
His own sorest need.


How sir Galahad sought yet again for the Grail.

On he rode, to succour bound,
But his faith grew dim;
Wells for thirst he many found,
Water none for him.

Never more from drinking deep
Rose he up and laughed;
Never more did prayerful sleep
Follow on the draught.

Good the water which they bore,
Plenteously it flowed,
Quenched his thirst, but, ah, no more
Eased his bosom’s load!

For the Best no more he sighed;
Rode as in a trance;
Life grew poor, undignified,
And he spake of chance.

Then he dreamed through Jesus’ hand
That he drove a nail–
Woke and cried, “Through every land,
Lord, I seek thy Grail!”


That sir Galahad found the Grail.

Up the quest again he took,
Rode through wood and wave;
Sought in many a mossy nook,
Many a hermit-cave;

Sought until the evening red
Sunk in shadow deep;
Sought until the moonlight fled;
Slept, and sought in sleep.

Where he wandered, seeking, sad,
Story doth not say,
But at length sir Galahad
Found it on a day;

Took the Grail with holy hand,
Had the cup of joy;
Carried it about the land,
Gleesome as a boy;

Laid his sword where he had found
Boot for every bale,
Stuck his spear into the ground,
Kept alone the Grail.


How sir Galahad carried about the Grail.

Horse and crested helmet gone,
Greaves and shield and mail,
Caroling loud the knight walked on,
For he had the Grail;

Caroling loud walked south and north,
East and west, for years;
Where he went, the smiles came forth,
Where he left, the tears.

Glave nor dagger mourned he,
Axe nor iron flail:
Evil might not brook to see
Once the Holy Grail.

Wilds he wandered with his staff,
Woods no longer sad;
Earth and sky and sea did laugh
Round sir Galahad.

Bitter mere nor trodden pool
Did in service fail,
Water all grew sweet and cool
In the Holy Grail.

Without where to lay his head,
Chanting loud he went;
Found each cave a palace-bed,
Every rock a tent.

Age that had begun to quail
In the gathering gloom,
Counselled he to seek the Grail
And forget the tomb.

Youth with hope or passion pale,
Youth with eager eyes,
Taught he that the Holy Grail
Was the only prize.

Maiden worn with hidden ail,
Restless and unsure,
Taught he that the Holy Grail
Was the only cure.

Children rosy in the sun
Ran to hear his tale
How twelve little ones had won
Each of them the Grail.


How sir Galahad hid the Grail.

Very still was earth and sky
When he passing lay;
Oft he said he should not die,
Would but go away.

When he passed, they reverent sought,
Where his hand lay prest,
For the cup he bare, they thought,
Hidden in his breast.

Hope and haste and eager thrill
Turned to sorrowing wail:
Hid he held it deeper still,
Took with him the Grail.