Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/78



Many a time I tried to shout; But as in dream of battle-rout, My frozen speech would not well out; I could not even weep.

With inward sigh I see the sun Fade off the pillars one by one, My heart faints when the day is done, Because I cannot sleep.

Sometimes strange thoughts pass through my head; Not like a tomb is this my bed, Yet oft I think that I am dead; That round my tomb is writ,

"Ozana of the hardy heart, Knight of the Table Round, Pray for his soul, lords, of your part; A true knight he was found."

Ah! me, I cannot fathom it.

All day long and every day, Till his madness pass'd away, I watch'd Ozana as he lay Within the gilded screen.

All my singing moved him not; As I sung my heart grew hot, With the thought of Launcelot Far away, I ween.