No knights to flatter me! For me—the wave,
The cliffs, the sea and sky, in calm or storm;
My garth, wherein I walk at morn; the charm
Of ocean, redolent at bounteous noon,
And sprayed with sunlight; night's free stars and moon:
White ships that pass, some several every year;
These ancient towers; and those wild mews to hear."
"An owlet maid," the King laughed.—But untrue
Was she, and of false Morgane's treasonous crew,
Deep in intrigues, even for the slaying of