An old, bent man, worn out and frail,
He came back from seeking the Holy Grail;
Little he recked of his earldom's loss,
No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross,
But deep in his soul the sign he wore,
The badge of the suffering and the poor.
The leper no longer crouched at his side,
But stood before him glorified,
Shining and tall and fair and straight
As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,—
Himself the Gate, whereby men can
Enter the temple of God in Man
And the voice that was calmer than silence said,
'Lo, it is I, be not afraid
In many climes, without avail,
Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;
Behold it is here,—this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streamlet for Me but now;
This crust is my body, broken for thee,
This water His blood that died on the tree;
The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need,
Not what we give, but what we share,—
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,—
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me'
Sir Launfal woke as from a swound—
'The Grail in my castle here is found!
Hang my idle armor up on the wall,
Let it be the spider's banquet hall;
He must be fenced with stronger mail
Who would seek and find the Holy Grail.'"
As he ended, he closed the book, and went silently out to stroll in the moonlight that was flecking the lawn with silvery lights and soft shadows from the spreading trees, while Nora and Roland also stepped out on the piazza, to enjoy the beauty of the night.
"I think Chillingworth has found out that last truth for himself," said Roland. "And I know I've found, too, that I needed stronger mail than I once supposed. I too have been seeking for a 'Grail'—a panacea which is to be found only where I had stopped looking for it! But I think, if all Christian teachers were like Mr. Alden, I should have found it sooner."
Nora looked up with an eager look of pleasure. And then she turned away her eyes, glistening with a happy light and a glad emotion she could not quite conceal.