Robbins Library Digital Projects Announcement: We are currently working on a large-scale migration of the Robbins Library Digital Projects to a new platform. This migration affects The Camelot Project, The Robin Hood Project, The Crusades Project, The Cinderella Bibliography, and Visualizing Chaucer.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
Bedivere Contemplates Camelot
Arthur is gone and Camelot will fade,
Like stars at dawn, from mundane memory;
And I, alone, will ponder what was made,
And what was lost, and what may never be.
Yet I am glad deep fear did not disturb
The dream into a nightmare at its start
And hopeful that our waking will not curb
Visions with equal beauty to impart.
The world needs bold imagination, not
A cowering fear that dreams can only last
A little while, like crumbling Camelot
Which falls and merges with the hidden past.
For dreams retain some vital mystery
Beyond their vestiges in history.
Like stars at dawn, from mundane memory;
And I, alone, will ponder what was made,
And what was lost, and what may never be.
Yet I am glad deep fear did not disturb
The dream into a nightmare at its start
And hopeful that our waking will not curb
Visions with equal beauty to impart.
The world needs bold imagination, not
A cowering fear that dreams can only last
A little while, like crumbling Camelot
Which falls and merges with the hidden past.
For dreams retain some vital mystery
Beyond their vestiges in history.
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