Timor Mortis, by Ernest Rhys [1905]

TIMOR MORTIS

by

ERNEST RHYS

"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.