II. Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross, III. Sir Launfal's raiment thin and spare O'er the edge of the desert, black and small, As over the red-hot sands they pass To where, in its slender necklace of grass, The little spring laughed and leapt in the shade, IV. "For Christ's sweet sake, I beg an alms; And Sir Launfal said, V. "I behold in thee An image of Him who died on the tree; Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns, Thou also hast had the world's buffets and scorns, - The wounds in the hands and feet and side: Mild Mary's Son, acknowledge me; VI. Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes He had flung an alms to leprosie, When he girt his young life up in gilded mail 'T was a mouldy crust of coarse brown bread, Yet with fine wheaten bread was the leper fed, And 't was red wine he drank with his thirsty soul. VII. As Sir Launfal mused with a downcast face, A light shone round about the place; The leper no longer crouched at his side, But stood before him glorified, Shining and tall and fair and straight As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate, – Enter the temple of God in Man. VIII. His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, In many climes, without avail, Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail; In whatso we share with another's need; IX. Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound: X. The castle gate stands open now, And the wanderer is welcome to the hall The Summer's long siege at last is o'er; And mastered the fortress by surprise; year round; There is no spot she loves so well on ground, And there's no poor man in the North Countree NOTE. According to the mythology of the Romancers, the San Greal, or Holy Grail, was the cup out of which Jesus partook of the last supper with his disciples. It was brought into England by Joseph of Arimathea, and remained there, an object of pilgrimage and adoration, for many years in the keeping of his lineal descendants. It was incumbent upon those who had charge of it to be chaste in thought, word, and deed; but one of the keepers having broken this condition, the Holy Grail disappeared. From that time it was a favorite enterprise of the knights of Arthur's court to go in search of it. Sir Galahad was at last successful in finding it, as we may read in the seventeenth book of the Romance of King Arthur. Tennyson has made Sir Galahad the subject of one of the most exquisite of his poems. The plot (if I may give that name to anything so slight) of the foregoing poem is my own, and, to serve its purposes, I have enlarged the circle of competition in search of the miraculous cup in such a manner as to include, not only other persons than the heroes of the Round Table, but also a period of time subsequent to the date of King Arthur's reign. READER! walk up at once (it will soon be too late) and buy at a perfectly ruinous rate A FABLE FOR CRITICS: OR, BETTER, (I like, as a thing that the reader's first fancy may strike, an old-fashioned title-page, such as presents a tabular view of the volume's contents) A GLANCE AT A FEW OF OUR LITERARY PROGENIES (Mrs. Malaprop's word) FROM THE TUB OF DIOGENES; A VOCAL AND MUSICAL MEDLEY, THAT IS, A SERIES OF JOKES By A Wonderful Quiz, who accompanies himself with a rub-a-dub-dub, full of spirit and grace, on the top of the tub. SET FORTH IN OCTOBER, THE 31ST DAY, |