The knight rides forth in blackest mail, The rustling world to meet. Out there he finds all: the day and the dale And the friend and the foe and the castle's pale, And fair May and fair maid and the woods and the grail, And God Himself doth never fail To stand upon the street. But within the knightly armor yonder, Behind that gloomy wringing, Cowers death and has to ponder, ponder: When will the blade come springing Over the iron wall, The stranger, freedom bringing, That from my hiding-place shall call Me forth, where I for many a day Am waiting, crouched and clinging, That I may stretch out, once for all, With play And singing? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOLD COAST CUSTOMS by EDITH SITWELL THANATOPSIS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT FANCY IN NUBIBUS; OR, THE POET IN THE CLOUDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GOOD FRIDAY, 1613. RIDING WESTWARD by JOHN DONNE THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE POET: A RHAPSODY by MARK AKENSIDE |