Timor Mortis

by: Ernest Rhys (Author)

from: Lays of the Round Table and Other Lyric Romances (Pp. 54 - 55)  1905

"The thing that I feared is fallen upon me."

When deadly flesh, oh knight, shall see
   The spiritual things,
The samite cloth, the Mystery,
   The long street where the wings
Of eagles are the minstrelsy,
       And winnow death, like dust away
           Upon a windy day.

Then, if thine arm, like Galahad,
   And thy heart tremble too,
Heave up, oh knight, thy hands, full glad
   To know the death he knew
The samite drawn, the Grail unclad
       Logris and beyond the sea
           That sails to Ar'mathie.

There, healed and solaced by the Grail,
   Thy wounds shall hurt not so:
But He, that Knight whom men did nail
   Upon the tree shall show
Those wounds they made, that brow left pale
       By death, which call and bid thee come
           Safe, oh knight errant, home.