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Equinox I (04).pdf

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XL<br />

SIR PALAMEDE the Saracen<br />

Hath see the All; his mind is set<br />

To pass beyond that great Amen.<br />

Far hath he wandered; still to fret<br />

His soul against that Soul. He breaches<br />

The rhododendron forest-net,<br />

His body bloody with its leeches.<br />

Sternly he travelleth the crest<br />

Of a great mountain, far that reaches<br />

Toward the King-snows; the rains molest<br />

The knight, white wastes updriven of wind<br />

In sheets, in torrents, fiend-possessed,<br />

Up from the steaming plains of Ind.<br />

They cut his flesh, they chill his bones:<br />

Yet he feels naught; his mind is pinned<br />

To that one point where all the thrones<br />

Join to one lion-head of rock,<br />

Towering above all crests and cones<br />

105

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