For late, as near a murmuring stream He rested 'mid an arbour green and shady, Nina, the good Enchantress, shed A light around his mossy bed; And, at her call, a waking dream 305 Prefigured to his sense the Egyptian Lady. Now, while his bright-haired front he bowed, And stood, far-kenned by mantle furred with ermine, As o'er the insensate Body hung The enrapt, the beautiful, the young, 310 Belief sank deep into the crowd That he the solemn issue would determine. Nor deem it strange; the Youth had worn That very mantle on a day of glory, The day when he achieved that matchless feat, 315 The marvel of the PERILOUS SEAT, Which whosoe'er approached of strength was shorn, Though King or Knight the most renowned in story. He touched with hesitating hand-- And lo! those Birds, far-famed through Love's dominions, 320 The Swans, in triumph clap their wings; And their necks play, involved in rings, Like sinless snakes in Eden's happy land;-- "Mine is she," cried the Knight;--again they clapped their pinions. "Mine was she--mine she is, though dead, 325 And to her name my soul shall cleave in sorrow;" Whereat, a tender twilight streak Of colour dawned upon the Damsel's cheek; And her lips, quickening with uncertain red, Seemed from each other a faint warmth to borrow. 330 Deep was the awe, the rapture high, Of love emboldened, hope with dread entwining, When, to the mouth, relenting Death Allowed a soft and flower-like breath, Precursor to a timid sigh, 335 To lifted eyelids, and a doubtful shining. In silence did King Arthur gaze Upon the signs that pass away or tarry; In silence watched the gentle strife Of Nature leading back to life; 340 Then eased his soul at length by praise Of God, and Heaven's pure Queen--the blissful Mary. Then said he, "Take her to thy heart, Sir Galahad! a treasure, that God giveth, Bound by indissoluble ties to thee 345 Through mortal change and immortality; Be happy and unenvied, thou who art A goodly Knight that hath no peer that liveth!" Not long the Nuptials were delayed; And sage tradition still rehearses 350 The pomp, the glory of that hour When toward the altar from her bower King Arthur led the Egyptian Maid, And Angels carolled these far-echoed verses;-- Who shrinks not from alliance 355 Of evil with good Powers, To God proclaims defiance, And mocks whom he adores.