Where once they lived a splendid life and vain,
That now are scattered stones and crumbled walls
In some soft vale, or by the echoing main,
Beneath the springing grass, and very deep
They three do lie, where never mornings rise
To ope the portals of their dazèd eyes,
Nor ever mortal footstep breaks their sleep,
And near beside lies Arthur, even he
That was King once, and yet again shall be.
[pg 21]