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 'Alas,' King Arthur said, 'he hath shown Such love to me-ward that the moan Made of him should be mine alone Above all other, knowing it known I have ill deserved it of him.' 'Nay,' Said Merlin, 'he shall do for you Much more, when time shall be anew, Than time hath given him chance to do Or hope may think to say.

'But now must be your powers purveyed To meet, ere noon of morn be made To-morrow, all the host arrayed Of this wild foe's wild brother, laid Around against you: see to it well, For now I part from you.' And soon, When sundawn slew the withering moon, Two hosts were met to win the boon Whose tale is death's to tell.