Galahad was in the night,
And the wood was drear;
But to men in darksome plight
Radiant things appear:
Wings he heard not floating by,
Heard no heavenly hail;
But he started with a cry,
For he saw the Grail.
Hid from bright beholding sun,
Hid from moonlight wan,
Lo, from age-long darkness won,
It was seen of man!
Three feet off, on cushioned moss,
As if cast away,
Homely wood with carven cross,
Rough and rude it lay!
To his knees the knight rose up,
Loosed his gauntlet-band;
Fearing, daring, toward the cup
Went his naked hand;
When, as if it fled from harm,
Sank the holy thing,
And his eager following arm
Plunged into a spring.
Oh the thirst, the water sweet!
Down he lay and quaffed,
Quaffed and rose up on his feet,
Rose and gayly laughed;
Fell upon his knees to thank,
Loved and lauded there;
Stretched him on the mossy bank,
Fell asleep in prayer;
Dreamed, and dreaming murmured low
Ave, pater, creed;
When the fir-tops gan to glow
Waked and called his steed;
Bitted him and drew his girth,
Watered from his helm:
Happier knight or better worth
Was not in the realm!
Belted on him then his sword,
Braced his slackened mail;
Doubting said: “I dreamed the Lord
Offered me the Grail.”