Observations placeholder

Alfred Lord Tennyson – from Morte d'Arthur

Thou …. take my brand Excalibur
Which was my pride; for thou rememberest how
In those old days, one summer noon an arm
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful
Holding the sword – and how I row'd across
And took it, and have worn it like a king
And wheresoever I am sung or told
In aftertime, this also shall be known;
But now delay not, take Excalibur,
And fling him far into the middle mere
Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word
 
There drew he forth the brand Excalibur,
And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth
And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt
For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks
Myriads of topaz lights, and jacinth work
Of subtlest jewellery.  He gazed so long
That both his eyes were dazzled, …...
 
Then quickly rose Sir Belvedere, and ran
And leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged
Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword,
And strongly wheeled and threw it.  The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon
And flashing round and round, and whirled in an arch,
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
By night, with noises of the northern sea.
So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm
Clothed in white samite, mystic wonderful
And caught him by the hilt, and brandished him
Three times, and drew him under in the mere