Rebuffed the gifts of the sunshine free, 145 The season brimmed all other things up 150 V As Sir Launfal made morn through the darksome gate, He was ware of a leper, crouched by the same, Who begged with his hand and moaned as he sate; And a loathing over Sir Launfal came; The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, The flesh 'neath his armor 'gan shrink and crawl, And midway its leap his heart stood still Like a frozen waterfall; 155 For this man so foul and bent of stature, Rasped harshly against his dainty nature, VI The leper raised not the gold from the dust: 160 "Better to me the poor man's crust, Better the blessing of the poor, Though I turn me empty from his door; That is not true alms which the hand can hold; Who gives from a sense of duty; That thread of the all sustaining Beauty To the soul that was starving in darkness before." 165 170 PRELUDE TO PART SECOND Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, From the snow five thousand summers old; An open wold and hill top bleak, It had gathered all the cold, And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek; From the unleafed boughs and pastures bare; 1 Groined his arches, constructed them in a regular way, 175 180 185 1 190 Down through a frost-leaved forest crypt,1 Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze; Sometimes the roof no fretwork knew But silvery mosses that downward grew; 195 Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief With quaint arabesques of ice fern leaf; Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear For the gladness of heaven to shine through, and here He had caught the nodding bulrush tops 200 And hung them thickly with diamond drops, No mortal builder's most rare device 205 'Twas as if every image that mirrored lay 210 Within the hall are song and laughter, The cheeks of Christmas glow red and jolly, And sprouting is every corbel and rafter With lightsome green and ivy and holly; 1 Forest crypt, a dark, gloomy place, formed by the forest trees, resembling a crypt, or deep cell. 2 Arabesque, a kind of ornamental work, taken from the Arabs or Moors. 3 Corbel, bracket, Through the deep gulf of the chimney wide And belly and tug as a flag in the wind; Now pausing, now scattering away as in fear, But the wind without was eager and sharp, The icy strings, Singing, in dreary monotone, A Christmas carol of its own, Whose burden still, as he might guess, Was "Shelterless, Shelterless, Shelterless!" The voice of the seneschal 2 flared like a torch, 1 Yule log, especially devoted to Christmas. 2 Seneschal, watchman. 215 220 225 230 235 PART SECOND I 240 There was never a leaf on bush or tree, The bare boughs rattled shudderingly; The river was numb and could not speak, 245 For the weaver Winter its shroud had spun; A single crow on the tree top bleak From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun. Again it was morning, but shrunk and cold, As if her veins were sapless and old, And she rose up decrepitly For a last dim look at earth and sea. II 250 Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate, 255 No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross, III Sir Launfal's raiment thin and spare |