The Vision of Sir Launfal, and Other Poems

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Mifflin, 1905 - 113 ˹éÒ
A narrative poem about a proud medieval knight who spends his life seeking abroad for the Holy Grail in vain, only to find it at home when he humbly gives a crust of bread and cup of water to a leper.
 

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˹éÒ 26 - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's New Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand and the sheep upon the right; And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
˹éÒ 28 - Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust. Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just. Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside. Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified. And the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.
˹éÒ 4 - We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing That skies are clear and grass is growing. The breeze comes whispering in our ear That dandelions are blossoming near. That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing. That the river is bluer than the sky, That the robin is plastering his house hard by...
˹éÒ 4 - Now is the high-tide of the year, And whatever of life hath ebbed away Comes flooding back with a ripply cheer, Into every bare inlet and creek and bay; Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, We are happy now because God wills it...
˹éÒ 31 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
˹éÒ 66 - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all' are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame. The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
˹éÒ 9 - As the lashes of light that trim the stars : He sculptured every summer delight In his halls and chambers out of sight...
˹éÒ 3 - Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
˹éÒ 15 - Lo, it is I, be not afraid In many climes, without avail, Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail; Behold, it is here, — this cup which thou Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now; This crust is my body broken for thee; This water his blood that died on the tree; The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share, For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor,...
˹éÒ 6 - The little birds sang as if it were The one day of summer in all the year, And the very leaves seemed to sing on the trees : The castle alone in the landscape lay Like an outpost of winter, dull and gray...

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