Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/316

 That hums of coming death, and, if my fears Be born of reason, of what's more than death. Wherefore, I say to you again, Gawaine, To you that this late hour is not too late For you to change yourself and change the King: For though the King may love me with a love More tried, and older, and more sure, may be, Than for another, for such a time as this The friend who turns him to the world again Shall have a tongue more gracious and an eye More shrewd than mine. For such a time as this The King must have a glamour to persuade him." "The King shall have a glamour, and anon," Gawaine said, and he shot death from his eyes; "If you were King, as Arthur is or was And Lancelot had carried off your Queen, And killed a score or so of your best knights Not mentioning my two brothers, whom he slew TJnarmored and unarmed God save your wits! Two stewards with skewers could have done as much, And you and I might now be rotting for it." "But Lancelot's men were crowded, they were crushed; And there was nothing for them but to strike Or die, not seeing where they struck. Think you They would have slain Gareth and Gaheris, And Tor, and all those other friends of theirs? God's mercy for the world he made, I say, And for the blood that writes the story of it. Gareth and Gaheris, Tor and Lamorak, All dead, with all the others that are dead! These years have made me turn to Lamorak For counsel and now Lamorak is dead."