Who grave with eld, and full of majesty in sight,
Spake in this wise, "Refrain," quoth he, "your tears and plaints!
Cease these your idle words! Make vain requests no more!
No humble speech nor moan may move the fixèd stint
Of destiny or death. Such is His will that paints
The earth with colours fresh, the darkest skies with store
Of starry lights: and though your tears a heart of flint
Might tender make; yet nought herein will they prevail."
Whiles thus he said, the noble Knight, who 'gan to feel
His vital force to faint, and death with cruel dint