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.