A golden bubble buoyed zenithward
Above black hills. The white-eyed stars, that thronged,—
Hot with the drought,—the cloudless slopes of heaven,
Winked thirstily; no wind aroused the leaves,
That o'er the glaring road hung motionless,
Withered and whitened of the weary dust
From many hoofs of many a fellowship
Of knights who rode to'ards quest or tournament:
Among them those who brought the King disguised,
Whose mind was, "in the lists to joust and be