I asked of Christ the King a royal gift:
He sent to me a brave and noble lad
Whose form broke like a ray through heaven's rift;
Fair was the face and pure of my Boy Galahad.
His mind was fresh and clear as August skies;
Brave was his heart and clean and glad;
His body it was formed for gallant errantries;
Chaste, strong and gentle was my Galahad.
Strength, reverence and poise met in his face,
And ardor welded firm the brave triad;
Decision fused with beauty in his grace
And courage with the sweetness of a lad.
Companions true and gallant my young Crusader had,
(Fired for adventure were the souls of them),
But bravelier than they fared forth my Galahad
To seek the jasper-citadeled Jerusalem.
Sometimes I think I see him beneath the astral lights
In shining mail of star-spun linen clad,
Standing amid Christ's pledged and loyal knights
Who guard the portals of the white Hyads.