But quickly King Amfortas stopped the knights
Who went to do his bidding at the shrine: 
“Nay, leave the Holy Cup still unrevealed! 
God grant that none of you may ever know
The torment that this vision brings to me
Which brings to you all rapture and all joy. 
Here do I stand in office, yet accurst,—­
My heart of lust to guard God’s holiest gift,
And plead in prayer from lips all stained with sin,—­
Pleading for you who purer are than I! 
O direst judgment from the God of grace! 
My inmost soul doth long for His forgiveness,
I yearn for sign of His compassion,
Yet cannot bear His mercy in the Grail.... 
But now the hour is nigh!  I seem to see
A ray of glory fall upon the Cup! 
The veil is raised!  The sacred stream that flows
Within the crystal, gloriously shines
With radiance heaven-born.  But as it glows,
I feel the well-spring of the blood divine
Pouring in floods into my anguished heart. 
And then the full tide of my sinful blood
Ebbs out in tumult wild through this deep wound
Here in my side.  It leaps in bounds of pain,
Like torments of the lowest depths of hell,—­
Through this deep wound.  Like His own wound it is,
Thrust through with bitter stroke of that same Spear,
And in the self-same place from which His tears
Of burning blood wept over man’s disgrace
In holiest pity and divinest love;
And now from me, the highest office holding
And charged with holiest trust of God’s good grace,—­
From me the hot, impassioned blood is surging,
Renewed again by that first awful sin. 
Alas, no deep repentance e’er can save
A sinner dyed in sins so scarlet red. 
Naught can avail, but only one sure thing,
The healing touch of that thrice-sacred Spear,
Held in the pure hand of the guileless One. 
Have mercy, O have mercy, pitying God! 
Take back my birthright in the sacred trust! 
Take back my life and all I hold most dear! 
But give me healing, and Thy tender love,—­
And let me die, and come to Thee pure-hearted!”

And as he ended in an anguished sob,
The boys’ sweet voices chanted from the dome: 
   "By pity ’lightened,
       My guileless One,—­
     Wait for him,
       Till My will is done!"

Then softly all the knights cried:  “’Tis God’s will
That thou shouldst wait in suffering, yet hope.... 
Fulfil thy duty:  and reveal the Grail!”

While deep the voice of aged Titurel: 
“Unveil the Grail!  Sir knights, unveil the Grail!”

Then they took off the cloth all purple-red,
And slowly brought to light the golden shrine,
And from it took the antique crystal Cup,—­
Forever cherished as the Holy Grail,—­
And set it on the table near the King,
Who writhed in silent anguish on his couch.

Then aged Titurel:  “The blessing now!”

And King Amfortas bowed in silent prayer
Before the Cup, while an increasing gloom
Spread through the room, and from the lofty dome
The voices of the boys sang soft and low: