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 Dawn on a golden moorland side By holt and heath saw Balen ride And Launceor after, pricked with pride And stung with spurring envy: wide And far he had ridden athwart strange lands And sought amiss the man he found And cried on, till the stormy sound Rang as a rallying trumpet round That fires men's hearts and hands.

Abide he bade him: nor was need To bid when Balen wheeled his steed Fiercely, less fain by word than deed To bid his envier evil speed, And cried, 'What wilt thou with me?' Loud Rang Launceor's vehement answer: 'Knight, To avenge on thee the dire despite Thou hast done us all in Arthur's sight I stand toward Arthur vowed.'