For other couriers we should not lack; 75
    We could guess it all by yon heifer’s lowing,—­
  And hark! how clear bold chanticleer,[9]
  Warmed with the new wine of the year,
  Tells all in his lusty crowing! 
  Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how; 80
  Everything is happy now,
    Everything is upward striving;
  ’T is as easy now for the heart to be true
  As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,—­
    ’T is the natural way of living, 85
  Who knows whither the clouds have fled? 
    In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake;
  And the eyes forget the tears they have shed,
    The heart forgets its sorrow and ache;
  The soul partakes the season’s youth, 90
    And the sulphurous rifts[10] of passion and woe
  Lie deep ’neath a silence pure and smooth,
    Like burnt-out craters healed with snow. 
  What wonder if Sir Launfal[11] now
  Remembered the keeping of his vow? 95

PART FIRST.

  I

  “My golden spurs now bring to me,
    And bring to me my richest mail,
  For to-morrow I go over land and sea
    In search of the Holy Grail;[12]
  Shall never a bed for me be spread. 100
  Nor shall a pillow be under my head,
  Till I begin my vow to keep,
  Here on the rushes[13] will I sleep,
  And perchance there may come a vision true
  Ere day create the world anew.” 105
    Slowly Sir Launfal’s eyes grew dim,
    Slumber fell like a cloud on him,
  And into his soul the vision flew.

  II

  The crows flapped over by twos and threes,
  In the pool drowsed the cattle up to their knees, 110
    The little birds sang as if it were
    The one day of summer in all the year
  And the very leaves seemed to sing on the trees
  The castle alone in the landscape lay
  Like an outpost of winter, dull and gray; 115
  ’T was the proudest hall in the North Countree,[14]
  And never its gates might opened be,
  Save to lord or lady of high degree;
  Summer besieged it on every side,
    But the churlish stone her assaults defied; 120
  She could not scale the chilly wall,
  Though round it for leagues her pavilions tall[16]
  Stretched left and right,
  Over the hills and out of sight;
    Green and broad was every tent, 125
    And out of each a murmur went
  Till the breeze fell off at night.

  III