Iii

To eastward builded was the oratory: There all the warm spring night,--while in the wood The buds were swelling in the brooding dark, And dreaming of a lordlier dawn the lark,-- Paced to and fro the youth, and dreamed on glory, And watched his arms. Great knights in mailéd hood On steeds of stone sat ranged along the aisle, And frowned upon the aspirant: “Who is he Would claim the name and join the company Of slayers of Soldans swart and Dragons grim, Not ignorant of wanded wizards’ guile, And deserts parched, and waters wide to swim?” He halted at the challenge of the dead. Anon, in twilight, fancy feigned a smile To curve the carven lips, as though they said, “Oh, welcome, brother, of whom the world hath need! Ere the recorded deed We trembled, hoped, and doubted, even as thou.”

And therewithal he lifted up his brow, Uplift from hesitance and humble fear, And saw how with the splendour of the sun The glimmering oriel blossomed rosy-clear; And lo, the Vigil of the Arms was done!