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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. 

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Robbins Library Digital Projects > Camelot Project > The Spectator > The Fall of Galahad

The Fall of Galahad


Her hair was brown, but dusted gold
   Shone on it, by a young wind blown;
It lived in light and seemed to hold
   The sun or star shine for its own.

Her eyes were like Our Lady's, grey;
   They ransomed light for other light;
They were a daydream of the day,
   The echo of a perfect night.

The beauty of her face compelled
   All thought, all reason, everything,
Yet half-withdrew, and just withheld
   The crown of its imagining.

Her step was like a soft leaf's fall
   That wakes a sleeper in the wood.
It came, and when it went, then all
   Had gone from life that seemed most good.

One instant, for a moment's space,
   She stood before him where he prayed;
He felt her eyes, he felt her face,—
   The wind that touched her in the glade.

He left his prayer, forgot the place,
   Forgot the Vision of the Grael;
He saw her eyes, her hair, her face,—
   His hilt-cross struck the Altar-rail.

The music ceased, the shrine was rent,—
   He never cast one glance behind,
But followed on the way she went,
   A hidden way and hard to find.