The Holy Grail should serve him by its power;
And he would seize it in his own right hand,
And some day be the master of them all. 
Henceforth he waged a subtle, ceaseless war
Against Monsalvat and the holy knights. 
He gave himself to dark and evil life
And learned the witchery of magic arts
To work the ruin of the Holy Grail. 
Fair gardens he created by his art,
Through all the deserts, and therein he placed
Maidens of winsome witchery and power,
Who bloomed like flowers in beauty and in grace. 
And in these subtle snares full many a knight
Was caught by magic wiles and lured and lost,
And no one knew where they had gone or why. 
Then holy Titurel, grown old in years,
Gave up the kingdom to his only son,
The brave Amfortas.  And by ceaseless quest
Amfortas learned the truth and waged fierce war
Against this Klingsor, evil to the heart,
Until at last in one unguarded moment,
As I have told you, e’en our noble King,
The good Amfortas, yielded to a sin,—­
And lost the Spear, and had his fatal wound. 
Now with the Spear within his evil grasp
Klingsor exults, and mockingly does tell
How his black fingers soon will hold the Grail.”

[Illustration]

Then the young knights who listened to the tale
Upstarted with the cry:  “God give us grace
To wrest that sacred Spear from impious hands!”

But Gurnemanz thus checked them:  “Listen yet! 
Long did our King Amfortas kneel before
The sanctuary, praying in his pain
And seeking for a word of hope from God. 
At length a radiance glowed around the Grail,
And from its glory shone a Sacred Face
That spake this oracle of mystic words: 
   "By pity ’lightened,
       My guileless One,—­
     Wait for him,
       Till My will is done!"

And as the knights repeated these weird words,—­
There came wild cries and shouting from the lake: 
“Shame! shame! alas, the shame to shoot the swan!”
And as they looked, a wild swan came in sight;
It floated feebly o’er the flurried lake
And strove to fly, but wounded fluttered down
And sank upon the lake-shore, and was dead. 
And Gurnemanz cried out:  “Who shot the swan? 
The King had hailed it as a happy sign,
Whene’er a swan came near him in its flight
For since the earliest ages has this bird
Meant hope and health and holiness to men.—­
Who dared to do this dastard deed of shame?”

Then came a knight leading a guileless boy
And said:  “This is the one who shot the swan,—­
And here more arrows like the cruel shaft
That hides itself within the bleeding breast.”

To whom spake Gurnemanz:  “What mean’st thou, boy,
By such a cruel, shameless deed as this?”

But the boy answered:  “Yea, it was my shot. 
I shot the swan in flight when high in air.”