Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/68



"He in good time shall be my servant too, Meantime, take note whose sword first made him knight, And who has loved him alway, yea, and who Still trusts him alway, though in all men's sight,

"He is just what you know, O Galahad, This love is happy even as you say. But would you for a little time be glad, To make ME sorry long, day after day?

"Her warm arms round his neck half throttle me, The hot love-tears burn deep like spots of lead, Yea, and the years pass quick: right dismally Will Launcelot at one time hang his head;

"Yea, old and shrivell'd he shall win my love. Poor Palomydes fretting out his soul! Not always is he able, son, to move His love, and do it honour: needs must roll

"The proudest destrier sometimes in the dust; And then 'tis weary work; he strives beside Seem better than he is, so that his trust Is always on what chances may betide;

"And so he wears away, my servant, too, When all these things are gone, and wretchedly He sits and longs to moan for Iseult, who Is no care now to Palomydes: see,

"O good son Galahad, upon this day. Now even, all these things are on your side, But these you fight not for; look up, I say, And see how I can love you, for no pride