These to His Memory--since he held them dear,Perchance as finding there unconsciously Some image of himself--I dedicate,I dedicate,I consecrate with tears--These Idylls.

And indeed He seems to me Scarce other than my king's ideal knight,'Who reverenced his conscience as his king;Whose glory was,redressing human wrong;

Who spake no slander,no,nor listened to it;Who loved one only and who clave to her--'

Her--over all whose realms to their last isle,Commingled with the gloom of imminent war,The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse,Darkening the world.We have lost him:he is gone:

We know him now:all narrow jealousies Are silent;and we see him as he moved,How modest,kindly,all-accomplished,wise,With what sublime repression of himself,And in what limits,and how tenderly;Not swaying to this faction or to that;

Not making his high place the lawless perch Of winged ambitions,nor a vantage-ground For pleasure;but through all this tract of years Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,Before a thousand peering littlenesses,In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,And blackens every blot:for where is he,Who dares foreshadow for an only son A lovelier life,a more unstained,than his?

Or how should England dreaming of his sons Hope more for these than some inheritance Of such a life,a heart,a mind as thine,Thou noble Father of her Kings to be,Laborious for her people and her poor--Voice in the rich dawn of an ampler day--

Far-sighted summoner of War and Waste To fruitful strifes and rivalries of peace--Sweet nature gilded by the gracious gleam Of letters,dear to Science,dear to Art,Dear to thy land and ours,a Prince indeed,Beyond all titles,and a household name,Hereafter,through all times,Albert the Good.

Break not,O woman's-heart,but still endure;Break not,for thou art Royal,but endure,Remembering all the beauty of that star Which shone so close beside Thee that ye made One light together,but has past and leaves The Crown a lonely splendour.

May all love,His love,unseen but felt,o'ershadow Thee,The love of all Thy sons encompass Thee,The love of all Thy daughters cherish Thee,The love of all Thy people comfort Thee,Till God's love set Thee at his side again!

Leodogran,the King of Cameliard,Had one fair daughter,and none other child;And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,Guinevere,and in her his one delight.

For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this isle,and ever waging war Each upon other,wasted all the land;And still from time to time the heathen host Swarmed overseas,and harried what was left.

And so there grew great tracts of wilderness,Wherein the beast was ever more and more,But man was less and less,till Arthur came.

For first Aurelius lived and fought and died,And after him King Uther fought and died,But either failed to make the kingdom one.

And after these King Arthur for a space,And through the puissance of his Table Round,Drew all their petty princedoms under him.

Their king and head,and made a realm,and reigned.

And thus the land of Cameliard was waste,Thick with wet woods,and many a beast therein,And none or few to scare or chase the beast;So that wild dog,and wolf and boar and bear Came night and day,and rooted in the fields,And wallowed in the gardens of the King.

And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour,but now and then,Her own brood lost or dead,lent her fierce teat To human sucklings;and the children,housed In her foul den,there at their meat would growl,And mock their foster mother on four feet,Till,straightened,they grew up to wolf-like men,Worse than the wolves.And King Leodogran Groaned for the Roman legions here again,And Caesar's eagle:then his brother king,Urien,assailed him:last a heathen horde,Reddening the sun with smoke and earth with blood,And on the spike that split the mother's heart Spitting the child,brake on him,till,amazed,He knew not whither he should turn for aid.

But--for he heard of Arthur newly crowned,Though not without an uproar made by those Who cried,'He is not Uther's son'--the King Sent to him,saying,'Arise,and help us thou!

For here between the man and beast we die.'

And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms,But heard the call,and came:and Guinevere Stood by the castle walls to watch him pass;But since he neither wore on helm or shield The golden symbol of his kinglihood,But rode a simple knight among his knights,And many of these in richer arms than he,She saw him not,or marked not,if she saw,One among many,though his face was bare.

But Arthur,looking downward as he past,Felt the light of her eyes into his life Smite on the sudden,yet rode on,and pitched His tents beside the forest.Then he drave The heathen;after,slew the beast,and felled The forest,letting in the sun,and made Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight And so returned.

For while he lingered there,A doubt that ever smouldered in the hearts Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm Flashed forth and into war:for most of these,Colleaguing with a score of petty kings,Made head against him,crying,'Who is he That he should rule us?who hath proven him King Uther's son?for lo!we look at him,And find nor face nor bearing,limbs nor voice,Are like to those of Uther whom we knew.

This is the son of Gorlois,not the King;

This is the son of Anton,not the King.'

And Arthur,passing thence to battle,felt Travail,and throes and agonies of the life,Desiring to be joined with Guinevere;And thinking as he rode,'Her father said That there between the man and beast they die.

Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts Up to my throne,and side by side with me?

What happiness to reign a lonely king,Vext--O ye stars that shudder over me,O earth that soundest hollow under me,Vext with waste dreams?for saving I be joined To her that is the fairest under heaven,I seem as nothing in the mighty world,And cannot will my will,nor work my work Wholly,nor make myself in mine own realm Victor and lord.But were I joined with her,Then might we live together as one life,And reigning with one will in everything Have power on this dark land to lighten it,And power on this dead world to make it live.'

Thereafter--as he speaks who tells the tale--When Arthur reached a field-of-battle bright With pitched pavilions of his foe,the world Was all so clear about him,that he saw The smallest rock far on the faintest hill,And even in high day the morning star.

So when the King had set his banner broad,At once from either side,with trumpet-blast,And shouts,and clarions shrilling unto blood,The long-lanced battle let their horses run.

And now the Barons and the kings prevailed,And now the King,as here and there that war Went swaying;but the Powers who walk the world Made lightnings and great thunders over him,And dazed all eyes,till Arthur by main might,And mightier of his hands with every blow,And leading all his knighthood threw the kings Carados,Urien,Cradlemont of Wales,Claudias,and Clariance of Northumberland,The King Brandagoras of Latangor,With Anguisant of Erin,Morganore,And Lot of Orkney.Then,before a voice As dreadful as the shout of one who sees To one who sins,and deems himself alone And all the world asleep,they swerved and brake Flying,and Arthur called to stay the brands That hacked among the flyers,'Ho!they yield!'

So like a painted battle the war stood Silenced,the living quiet as the dead,And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord.

He laughed upon his warrior whom he loved And honoured most.'Thou dost not doubt me King,So well thine arm hath wrought for me today.'

'Sir and my liege,'he cried,'the fire of God Descends upon thee in the battle-field:

I know thee for my King!'Whereat the two,For each had warded either in the fight,Sware on the field of death a deathless love.

And Arthur said,'Man's word is God in man:

Let chance what will,I trust thee to the death.'

Then quickly from the foughten field he sent Ulfius,and Brastias,and Bedivere,His new-made knights,to King Leodogran,Saying,'If I in aught have served thee well,Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife.'

Whom when he heard,Leodogran in heart Debating--'How should I that am a king,However much he holp me at my need,Give my one daughter saving to a king,And a king's son?'--lifted his voice,and called A hoary man,his chamberlain,to whom He trusted all things,and of him required His counsel:'Knowest thou aught of Arthur's birth?'

Then spake the hoary chamberlain and said,'Sir King,there be but two old men that know:

And each is twice as old as I;and one Is Merlin,the wise man that ever served King Uther through his magic art;and one Is Merlin's master (so they call him)Bleys,Who taught him magic,but the scholar ran Before the master,and so far,that Bleys,Laid magic by,and sat him down,and wrote All things and whatsoever Merlin did In one great annal-book,where after-years Will learn the secret of our Arthur's birth.'

To whom the King Leodogran replied,'O friend,had I been holpen half as well By this King Arthur as by thee today,Then beast and man had had their share of me:

But summon here before us yet once more Ulfius,and Brastias,and Bedivere.'

Then,when they came before him,the King said,'I have seen the cuckoo chased by lesser fowl,And reason in the chase:but wherefore now Do these your lords stir up the heat of war,Some calling Arthur born of Gorlois,Others of Anton?Tell me,ye yourselves,Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's son?'

And Ulfius and Brastias answered,'Ay.'

Then Bedivere,the first of all his knights Knighted by Arthur at his crowning,spake--For bold in heart and act and word was he,Whenever slander breathed against the King--'Sir,there be many rumours on this head:

For there be those who hate him in their hearts,Call him baseborn,and since his ways are sweet,And theirs are bestial,hold him less than man:

And there be those who deem him more than man,And dream he dropt from heaven:but my belief In all this matter--so ye care to learn--Sir,for ye know that in King Uther's time The prince and warrior Gorlois,he that held Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea,Was wedded with a winsome wife,Ygerne:

And daughters had she borne him,--one whereof,Lot's wife,the Queen of Orkney,Bellicent,Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved To Arthur,--but a son she had not borne.

And Uther cast upon her eyes of love:

But she,a stainless wife to Gorlois,So loathed the bright dishonour of his love,That Gorlois and King Uther went to war:

And overthrown was Gorlois and slain.

Then Uther in his wrath and heat besieged Ygerne within Tintagil,where her men,Seeing the mighty swarm about their walls,Left her and fled,and Uther entered in,And there was none to call to but himself.

So,compassed by the power of the King,Enforced was she to wed him in her tears,And with a shameful swiftness:afterward,Not many moons,King Uther died himself,Moaning and wailing for an heir to rule After him,lest the realm should go to wrack.

And that same night,the night of the new year,By reason of the bitterness and grief That vext his mother,all before his time Was Arthur born,and all as soon as born Delivered at a secret postern-gate To Merlin,to be holden far apart Until his hour should come;because the lords Of that fierce day were as the lords of this,Wild beasts,and surely would have torn the child Piecemeal among them,had they known;for each But sought to rule for his own self and hand,And many hated Uther for the sake Of Gorlois.Wherefore Merlin took the child,And gave him to Sir Anton,an old knight And ancient friend of Uther;and his wife Nursed the young prince,and reared him with her own;And no man knew.And ever since the lords Have foughten like wild beasts among themselves,So that the realm has gone to wrack:but now,This year,when Merlin (for his hour had come)Brought Arthur forth,and set him in the hall,Proclaiming,"Here is Uther's heir,your king,"A hundred voices cried,"Away with him!

No king of ours!a son of Gorlois he,Or else the child of Anton,and no king,Or else baseborn."Yet Merlin through his craft,And while the people clamoured for a king,Had Arthur crowned;but after,the great lords Banded,and so brake out in open war.'

Then while the King debated with himself If Arthur were the child of shamefulness,Or born the son of Gorlois,after death,Or Uther's son,and born before his time,Or whether there were truth in anything Said by these three,there came to Cameliard,With Gawain and young Modred,her two sons,Lot's wife,the Queen of Orkney,Bellicent;Whom as he could,not as he would,the King Made feast for,saying,as they sat at meat,'A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas.

Ye come from Arthur's court.Victor his men Report him!Yea,but ye--think ye this king--So many those that hate him,and so strong,So few his knights,however brave they be--Hath body enow to hold his foemen down?'

'O King,'she cried,'and I will tell thee:few,Few,but all brave,all of one mind with him;For I was near him when the savage yells Of Uther's peerage died,and Arthur sat Crowned on the dais,and his warriors cried,"Be thou the king,and we will work thy will Who love thee."Then the King in low deep tones,And simple words of great authority,Bound them by so strait vows to his own self,That when they rose,knighted from kneeling,some Were pale as at the passing of a ghost,Some flushed,and others dazed,as one who wakes Half-blinded at the coming of a light.

'But when he spake and cheered his Table Round With large,divine,and comfortable words,Beyond my tongue to tell thee--I beheld From eye to eye through all their Order flash A momentary likeness of the King:

And ere it left their faces,through the cross And those around it and the Crucified,Down from the casement over Arthur,smote Flame-colour,vert and azure,in three rays,One falling upon each of three fair queens,Who stood in silence near his throne,the friends Of Arthur,gazing on him,tall,with bright Sweet faces,who will help him at his need.