Now, mass being said, before the priest he brought That glittering prophecy, his untried sword. In some mysterious forge the blade was wrought, By shadowy arms of force that baffle thought Wrought curiously in the dim under-world; And all along the sheath processions poured, Thronged shapes of earth’s weird morn Ere yet the hammer of Thor was downward hurled: Not less it had for hilt the Cross of Christ the Lord, And must thereby in battle aye be borne. V Cool-sprinkled with the consecrated wave, That blade was blessed, that it should strike to save; And next, pure hands of youth in hands of age Were held upon the page Of the illuminate missal, full of prayers,-- Rich fields, wherethrough the river of souls has rushed Long, long, to have its passion held and hushed In the breast of that calm sea whereto it fares: And steadfastly the aspirant vow did plight To bear the sword, or break it, for the Right; And living well his life, yet hold it light,-- Yea, for that sovereign sake a worthless thing. VI Thereon a troop of maids began to bring, With flutter as of many-coloured doves, The hauberk that right martially did ring, And weight of linkéd gloves, And helmet plumed, and spurs ablaze with gold. Each gave in gracious wise her guiding word, As bade or fresh caprice, or usance old: As, _Ride thou swift by golden Honour spurred_, Or, _Be thou faithful, fortunate, and bold_. But scarce for his own heart the aspirant heard. VII And armed, all save the head, He kneeled before his master gray and good. Like some tall, noble, ancient ship he stood, That once swept o’er the tide With banners, and freight of heroes helmeted For worthy war, and music breathing pride. Now, the walled cities won, And storms withstood, and all her story spun, She towers in sand beside some sunny bay, Whence in the silvery morn new barks go sailing gay. So stately stood the Knight: And with a mighty arm, and with a blade Reconsecrate at fiery fonts of fight, He on the bowed neck gave the accolade. Yet kneeled the youth bewildered, for the stroke Seemed severance sharp of kind companionships; And the strange pain of parting in him woke; And as at midnight when a branch down dips By sudden-swaying tempest roughly stirred, Some full-fledged nested bird, Being shaken forth, though fain of late to fly, Now flickers with weak wing and wistful cry,-- So flickered his desires ’Twixt knighthood, and delights and duties of esquires. But even as with the morrow will uprise, Assured by azure skies, The bird, and dart, and swim in buoyant air,-- Uprose his soul, and found the future free and fair! VIII