Watched their dear Master darken into day.
Sir Galahad holds the Orient arrow’s name,
His chosen hand unbars the gate of day.
There glows that Heart, filled with his mother’s blood,
That rules in every pulse the world of man,
Link of the awful Three, with many a star.
O blessed East! ’mid visions such as thine,
’Twere well to grasp the Sangreal, and die.
In one passage Mr. Hawker seems to be speaking the feeling of loneliness that he ever felt in his own heart: he was, as he says in one of his letters, “the ever alone.”