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the Equinox - The Hermetic Library

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SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT<br />

<strong>The</strong> saint of Mary”—<strong>the</strong>re he stayed,<br />

For out of Memnon's singing stone<br />

So fierce a questing barked and brayed,<br />

It turned his laughter to a groan.<br />

His vow forgot, his task undone,<br />

His soul whipped in God's bitter school!<br />

(He moaned a mighty malison!)<br />

<strong>The</strong> perfect knight? <strong>The</strong> perfect fool!<br />

“Now, by God's wounds!” quoth he, “my strength<br />

Is burnt out to a pest of pains.<br />

Let me fling off my curse at length<br />

In old Chaldea's starry plains!<br />

Thou blessèd Jesus, foully nailed<br />

Unto <strong>the</strong> cruel Calvary tree,<br />

Look on my soul's poor fort assailed<br />

By all <strong>the</strong> hosts of devilry!<br />

Is <strong>the</strong>re no medicine but death<br />

That shall avail me in my place,<br />

That I may know <strong>the</strong> Beauteous Breath<br />

And taste <strong>the</strong> Goodly Gift of Grace?<br />

Keep Thou yet firm this trembling leaf<br />

My soul, dear God Who died for men;<br />

Yea! for that sinner-soul <strong>the</strong> chief,<br />

Sir Palamede <strong>the</strong> Saracen!”<br />

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