Alas, in vain his heart address'd, With sighs, with prayers, his elfin bride;-- What though the vow conceal'd the name, Did not the boast the charms proclaim? The spell has vanish'd from his breast, The fairy from his side. Oh, not for vulgar homage made, The holier beauty form'd for one; It asks no wreath the arm can win; Its lists--its world--the heart within; All love, if sacred, haunts the shade-- The star shrinks from the sun! Three days the wand'rer roved in vain; Uprose the fatal dawn at last! The Lists are set, the galleries raised, And, scorn'd by all the eyes that gazed, Alone he fronts the crowd again, And hears the sentence pass'd. Now, as, amidst the hooting scorn, Rude hands the hard command fulfil, While rings the challenge--"Sun and air Ne'er shone, ne'er breathed, on form so fair As Arthur's Queen,"--a single horn Came from the forest hill. A note so distant and so lone, And yet so sweet,--it thrill'd along, It hush'd the Champion on his steed, Startled the rude hands from their deed, Charm'd the stern Arthur on his throne, And still'd the shouting throng. To North, to South, to East, and West, They turn'd their eyes; and o'er the plain, On palfrey white, a Ladye rode; As woven light her mantle glow'd. Two lovely shapes, in azure dress'd, Walk'd first, and led the rein. The crowd gave way, as onward bore That vision from the Land of Dreams; Veil'd was the gentle rider's face, But not the two her path that grace. How dim beside the charms they wore All human beauty seems! So to the throne the pageant came, And thus the Fairy to the King: "Not unto thee for ever dear, By minstrel's song, to knighthood's ear Beseems the wrath that wrongs the vow, Which hallows ev'n a name. "Bloom there no flowers more sweet by night? Come, Queen, before the judgment throne; Behold Sir Elvar's nameless bride! Now, Queen, his doom thyself decide." She raised her veil,--and all her light Of beauty round them shone! The bloom, the eyes, the locks, the smile, That never earth nor time could dim;-- Day grew more bright, and air more clear, As Heaven itself were brought more near.-- And oh! _his_ joy, who felt, the while, That light but glow'd for him! "My steed, my lance, vain Champion, now To arms: and Heaven defend the right!"-- Here spake the Queen, "The strife is past," And in the Lists her glove she cast, "And I myself will crown thy brow, Thou love-defended Knight!" He comes to claim the garland crown; The changeful thousands shout his name; And faithless beauty round him smiled, How cold, beside the Forest's Child, Who ask'd not love to bring renown, And clung to love in shame!