As thought from thought takes wing and flies, As month on month with sunlit eyes Tramples and triumphs in its rise, As wave smites wave to death and dies, So chance on hurtling chance like steel Strikes, flashes, and is quenched, ere fear Can whisper hope, or hope can hear, If sorrow or joy be far or near For time to hurt or heal.
Swift as a shadow and strange as light That cleaves in twain the shadow of night Before the wide-winged word takes flight That thunder speaks to depth and height And quells the quiet hour with sound, There came before King Mark and stood Between the moorside and the wood The man whose word God's will made good, Nor guile was in it found.
And Merlin said to Balen: "Lo, Thou hast wrought thyself a grievous woe To let this lady die, and know Thou mightst have stayed her deadly blow."
And Balen answered him and said, "Nay, by my truth to faith, not I, So fiercely fain she was to die;Ere well her sword had flashed on high, Self-slain she lay there dead."
Again and sadly Merlin spake:
"My heart is wrung for this deed's sake, To know thee therefore doomed to take Upon thine hand a curse, and make Three kingdoms pine through twelve years' change, In want and woe: for thou shalt smite The man most noble and truest knight That looks upon the live world's light A dolorous stroke and strange.
"And not till years shall round their goal May this man's wound thou hast given be whole."
And Balen, stricken through the soul By dark-winged words of doom and dole, Made answer: "If I wist it were No lie but sooth thou sayest of me, Then even to make a liar of thee Would I too slay myself, and see How death bids dead men fare."
And Merlin took his leave and passed And was not: and the shadow as fast Went with him that his word had cast, Too fleet for thought thereof to last:
And there those brethren bade King Mark Farewell: but fain would Mark have known The strong knight's name who had overthrown The pride of Launceor, when it shone Bright as it now lay dark.
And Balan for his brother spake, Saying: "Sir, albeit him list not break The seal of secret time, nor shake Night off him ere his morning wake, By these two swords he is girt withal May men that praise him, knights and lords, Call him the knight that bears two swords, And all the praise his fame accords Make answer when they call."
So parted they toward eventide;And tender twilight, heavy-eyed, Saw deep down glimmering woodlands ride Balen and Balan side by side, Till where the leaves grew dense and dim Again they spied from far draw near The presence of the sacred seer, But so disguised and strange of cheer That seeing they knew not him.
"Now whither ride ye," Merlin said, "Through shadows that the sun strikes red, Ere night be born or day be dead?"
But they, for doubt half touched with dread, Would say not where their goal might lie.
"And thou," said Balen, "what art thou, To walk with shrouded eye and brow?"
He said: "Me lists not show thee now By name what man am I."
"Ill seen is this of thee," said they, "That thou art true in word and way Nor fain to fear the face of day, Who wilt not as a true man say The name it shames not him to bear."
He answered: "Be it or be it not so, Yet why ye ride this way I know, To meet King Ryons as a foe, And how your hope shall fare.
"Well, if ye hearken toward my rede, Ill, if ye hear not, shall ye speed."
"Ah, now," they cried, "thou art ours at need What Merlin saith we are fain to heed."
"Great worship shall ye win," said he, "And look that ye do knightly now, For great shall be your need, I trow."
And Balen smiled: "By knighthood's vow, The best we may will we."
Then Merlin bade them turn and take Rest, for their good steeds' weary sake, Between the highway and the brake, Till starry midnight bade them wake:
Then "Rise," he said, "the king is nigh, Who hath stolen from all his host away With threescore horse in armed array, The goodliest knights that bear his sway And hold his kingdom high.
"And twenty ride of them before To bear his errand, ere the door Turn of the night, sealed fast no more, And sundawn bid the stars wax hoar;For by the starshine of to-night He seeks a leman where she waits His coming, dark and swift as fate's, And hearkens toward the unopening gates That yield not him to sight.
Then through the glimmering gloom around A shadowy sense of light and sound Made, ere the proof thereof were found, The brave blithe hearts within them bound, And "Where," quoth Balen, "rides the king?"
But softer spake the seer: "Abide, Till hither toward your spears he ride, Where all the narrowing woodland side Grows dense with boughs that cling."
There in that straitening way they met The wild Welsh host against them set, And smote their strong king down, ere yet His hurrying horde of spears might get Fierce vantage of them. Then the fight Grew great and joyous as it grew, For left and right those brethren slew, Till all the lawn waxed red with dew More deep than dews of night.
And ere the full fierce tale was read Full forty lay before them dead, And fast the hurtling remnant fled And wist not whither fear had led:
And toward the king they went again, And would have slain him: but he bowed Before them, crying in fear aloud For grace they gave him, seeing the proud Wild king brought lowest of men.
And ere the wildwood leaves were stirred With song or wing of wakening bird, In Camelot was Merlin's word With joy in joyous wonder heard That told of Arthur's bitterest foe Diskingdomed and discomfited.
"By whom?" the high king smiled and said.
He answered: "Ere the dawn wax red, To-morrow bids you know.
"Two knights whose heart and hope are one And fain to win your grace have done This work whereby if grace be won Their hearts shall hail the enkindling sun With joy more keen and deep than day."
And ere the sundawn drank the dew Those brethren with their prisoner drew To the outer guard they gave him to And passed again away.
And Arthur came as toward his guest To greet his foe, and bade him rest As one returned from nobler quest And welcome from the stormbright west, But by what chance he fain would hear.
