Hush'd was each lip, and every cheek was pale;14
The stoutest heart beat tremulous and high:
"Arise," it mutter'd from the spectral veil,
"I call thee, King!" Then burst the wrathful cry,
Feet found the earth, and ready hands the sword,
And angry knighthood bristled round its lord.
But Arthur rose, and, waiving back the throng,15
Fronted the Image with a dauntless brow:
Then shrunk the Phantom, indistinct, along
The unbending herbage, noiseless, dark, and slow;
And, where the forest night at noonday made,
Glided,—as from the dial glides the shade.
Gone;—but an ice-bound horror seemed to cling16
To air; the revellers stood transfix'd to stone;
While from amidst them, palely pass'd the King,
Dragg'd by a will more royal than his own:
Onwards he went; the invisible control
Compell'd him, as a dream compels the soul.
They saw, and sought to stay him, but in vain,17
They saw, and sought to speak, but voice was dumb:
So Death some warrior from his armèd train
Plucks forth defenceless when his hour is come.
He gains the wood; their sight the shadows bar,
And darkness wraps him as the cloud a star.
Abruptly, as it came, the charm was past18
That bound the circle: as from heavy sleep
Starts the hush'd war-camp at the trumpet's blast,
Fierce into life the voiceless revellers leap;
Swift to the wood the glittering tumult springs,
And through the vale the shrill BON-LEF-HER rings.[2]
From stream, from tent, from pastime near and far,19
All press confusedly to the signal cry—
So from the Rock of Birds[3] the shout of war
Sends countless wings in clamour through the sky—
The cause a word, the track a sign affords,
And all the forest gleams with starry swords.
As on some stag the hunters single, gaze,20
Gathering together, and from far, the herd,
So round the margin of the woodland-maze
Pale beauty circles, trembling if a bird
Flutter a bough, or if, without a sound,
Some leaf fall breezeless, eddying to the ground.
An hour or more had towards the western seas21
Speeded the golden chariot of the day,
When a white plume came glancing through the trees,
The serried branches groaningly gave way,
And, with a bound, delivered from the wood,
Safe, in the sun-light, royal Arthur stood.
Who shall express the joy that aspect woke!22
Some laugh'd aloud, and clapp'd their snowy hands:
Some ran, some knelt, some turn'd aside and broke
Into glad tears:—But all unheeding stands
The King; and shivers in the glowing light;
And his breast heaves as panting from a fight.
Yet still in those pale features, seen more near,23
Speak the stern will, the soul to valour true;
It shames man not to feel man's human fear,
It shames man only if the fear subdue;
And masking trouble with a noble guile,
Soon the proud heart restores the kingly smile.