Ere the sun had cast his light
On the water's face,
Firm in saddle rode the knight
From the holy place,
Merry songs began to sing,
Let his matins bide;
Rode a good hour pondering,
And was turned aside,
Saying, “I will henceforth then
Yield this hopeless quest;
Tis a dream of holy men
This ideal Best!”
“Every good for miracle
Heart devout may hold;
Grail indeed was that fair well
Full of water cold!
“Not my thirst alone it stilled
But my soul it stayed;
And my heart, with gladness filled,
Wept and laughed and prayed!
“Spectral church with cryptic niche
I will seek no more;
That the holiest Grail is, which
Helps the need most sore!”
And he spake with speech more true
Than his thought indeed,
For not yet the good knight knew
His own sorest need.