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Dagonet, Arthur's Fool

Dagonet, Arthur's fool,
     He shocked and crashed with the rest,
But they gave him his coup-de-grace,
     When Arthur fought in the West.

Dagonet, Arthur's fool,
     They smashed him, body and soul,
And they shoved him under a bush,
     To die like a rat in a hole.

His poor little queer fool's body
     Was twisted awry with pain:--
Dagonet, Arthur's fool,
     Left to die in the rain.

He writhed and groaned in his torment,
     But none heard his shameful cry:--
Dagonet, Arthur's fool,
     Whom they left alone to die.

Mordred hated the fool,
     And he passed the place where he lay,
"Ah-ha! my pleasant fool,
     We'll see if you'll jest to-day!"

"We've silenced your bitter tongue,
     We've stopped your quirks and pride!"
And Mordred, who ne'er forgot,
     He kicked the fool aside.

Mordred was ever vile,
     He scorned each knightly rule,
He swung a crashing blow
     Right on the mouth of the fool.

He lifted his bleeding head,
     Dazed for a moment's space;
Then Dagonet, Arthur's fool,
     He laughed in Mordred's face.
                         --M. St. Clare Byrne
Additional Information:

Reprinted in 1921:

Byrne, Muriel St. Clare. "Dagonet, Arthur's Fool." In Modern Verse: British and American. Ed. Anita P. Forbes. New York: Henry Holt and   
       Company, 1921. Pp. 192-93.