Not without much persuasion yields the hound! 100 Loosens the throat, to gripe the sacred vest. "Priest," quoth Gawaine, "remember, but a sound, And straight the dog--let fancy sketch the rest!" The Priest, by fancy too dismay'd already, Fumbles the knot with fingers far from steady. Hoarse, while he fumbles, growls the dog suspicious, 101 Not liking such close contact to his Lord (The best of friends are sometimes too officious, And grudge all help save that themselves afford). His hands set free, the Knight assists the Priest, And, _finis, funis_, stands at last released. True to his word--and party coalitions, 102 The Knight then kicks aside the dog, of course; Salutes the foe, and states the new conditions The facts connected with the times enforce; All coalitions nat'rally denote The State-Metempsychosis--change of coat! "Ergo," quoth Gawaine,--"first, the sacred cloak; 103 Next, when two parties, but concur _pro temp._ Their joint opinions only should be spoke By that which has most cause to fear the hemp. Wherefore, my friend, this scarf supplies the gag To keep the cat symbolic--in the bag!" So said, so done, before the Priest was able 104 To prove his counter interest in the case, The Knight had bound him with the victim's cable! Closed up his mouth and cover'd up his face, His sacred robe with hands profane had taken, And left him that which Gawaine had forsaken. Then Gawaine stepp'd into the blissful air, 105 Oh, the bright wonder of the Northern Night! With Ocean's heart of music heaving there, Under its starry robe!--and all the might Of rock and shore, and islet deluge-riven, Distinctly dark against the lustrous heaven! Calm lay the large rude Nature of the North, 106 Glad as when first the stars rejoicing sang, And fresh as when from kindling Chaos forth (A thought of God) the young Creation sprang; When man in all the present Father found, And for the Temple, paused and look'd around! Nature, thou earliest Gospel of the Wise, 107 Thou never-silent Hymner unto God! Thou Angel-Ladder lost amid the skies, Though at the foot we dream upon the sod! To thee the Priesthood of the Lyre belong-- They hear Religion and reply in Song! If he hath held thy worship undefiled 108 Through all the sins and sorrows of his youth, Let the Man echo what he heard as Child From the far hill-tops of melodious Truth, Leaving on troubled hearts some lingering tone Sweet with the solace thou hast given his own! NOTES TO BOOK VIII. 1.--Page 332, stanza xi. _Frank were those times of trustful Chevisaunce._ Chevisaunce.--SPENSER. 2.--Page 332, stanza xiv. _Roved the same pastures when the Mead-month smiled._