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Equinox I (04).pdf

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62<br />

SIR PALAMEDES, THE SARACEN KNIGHT<br />

The knight at last wins to behold<br />

The full conception. Breathless-blue<br />

The fair lake's mirror crystal-cold<br />

Wherein he gazes, keen to view<br />

The vast Design therein, to chase<br />

The Beast to his last avenue.<br />

Then—O thou gosling scant of grace!<br />

The dream breaks, and Sir Palamede<br />

Wakes to the glass of his fool's face!<br />

“Ah, 'sdeath!” (quod he), “by thought and deed<br />

This brute for ever mocketh me.<br />

The lance is made a broken reed,<br />

The brain is but a barren tree—<br />

For all the beautiful Design<br />

Is but mine own geometry!”<br />

With that his wrath brake out like wine.<br />

He plunged his body in, and shattered<br />

The whole delusion asinine.<br />

All the false water-nymphs that flattered<br />

He killed with his resounding curse—<br />

O fool of God! as if it mattered!<br />

So, nothing better, rather worse,<br />

Out of the blue bliss of the pool<br />

Came dripping that inveterate fool!

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