Idylls Of The King: The Last Tournament (excerpt) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEEFEG HIEJKLELEMENOPLQREEE EHF STUVVK EWEVEEXYWZA2B2 B2B2B2B2C2 VEB2D2YC2 EEB2 E2F2L WVLEWVLVC2G2H2VB2EB2 B2VB2I2B2 LLLJ2K2B2L2WVH2WB2EW B2EEVL LM2LL N2C2LLB2B2EB2B2WEB2B 2W B2EVEEO2B2B2 EEB2EWB2WVEB2W B2VEP2WV Q2LVR2L2VWWB2EVEC2EL

Dagonet the fool whom Gawain in his moodA
Had made mock knight of Arthur's Table RoundB
At Camelot high above the yellowing woodsC
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hallD
And toward him from the hall with harp in handE
And from the crown thereof a carcanetE
Of ruby swaying to and fro the prizeF
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterdayE
Came Tristram saying Why skip ye so Sir FoolG
-
For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding onceH
Far down beneath a winding wall of rockI
Heard a child wail A stump of oak half deadE
From roots like some black coil of carven snakesJ
Clutch'd at the crag and started thro' mid airK
Bearing an eagle's nest and thro' the treeL
Rush'd ever a rainy wind and thro' the windE
Pierced ever a child's cry and crag and treeL
Scaling Sir Lancelot from the perilous nestE
This ruby necklace thrice around her neckM
And all unscarr'd from beak or talon broughtE
A maiden babe which Arthur pitying tookN
Then gave it to his Queen to rear the QueenO
But coldly acquiescing in her white armsP
Received and after loved it tenderlyL
And named it Nestling so forgot herselfQ
A moment and her cares till that young lifeR
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal coldE
Past from her and in time the carcanetE
Vext her with plaintive memories of the childE
So she delivering it to Arthur saidE
Take thou the jewels of this dead innocenceH
And make them an thou wilt a tourney prizeF
-
To whom the King Peace to thine eagle borneS
Dead nestling and this honour after deathT
Following thy will but O my Queen I museU
Why ye not wear on arm or neck or zoneV
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarnV
And Lancelot won methought for thee to wearK
-
Would rather you had let them fall she criedE
Plunge and be lost ill fated as they wereW
A bitterness to me ye look amazedE
Not knowing they were lost as soon as givenV
Slid from my hands when I was leaning outE
Above the river that unhappy childE
Past in her barge but rosier luck will goX
With these rich jewels seeing that they cameY
Not from the skeleton of a brother slayerW
But the sweet body of a maiden babeZ
Perchance who knows the purest of thy knightsA2
May win them for the purest of my maidsB2
-
She ended and the cry of a great joustsB2
With trumpet blowings ran on all the waysB2
From Camelot in among the faded fieldsB2
To furthest towers and everywhere the knightsB2
Arm'd for a day of glory before the KingC2
-
But on the hither side of that loud mornV
Into the hall stagger'd his visage ribb'dE
From ear to ear with dogwhip weals his noseB2
Bridge broken one eye out and one hand offD2
And one with shatter'd fingers dangling lameY
A churl to whom indignantly the KingC2
-
My churl for whom Christ died what evil beastE
Hath drawn his claws athwart thy face or fiendE
Man was it who marr'd heaven's image in thee thusB2
-
Then sputtering thro' the hedge of splinter'd teethE2
Yet strangers to the tongue and with blunt stumpF2
Pitch blacken'd sawing the air said the maim'd churlL
-
He took them and he drave them to his towerW
Some hold he was a table knight of thineV
A hundred goodly ones the Red Knight heL
Lord I was tending swine and the Red KnightE
Brake in upon me and drave them to his towerW
And when I cal'd upon thy name as oneV
That doest right by gentle and by churlL
Maim'd me and maul'd and would outright have slainV
Save that he aware me to a message sayingC2
'Tell thou the King and all his liars that IG2
Have founded my Round Table in the NorthH2
And whatsoever his own knights have swornV
My knights have sworn the counter to it and sayB2
My tower is full of harlots like his courtE
But mine are worthier seeing they professB2
To be none other than themselves and sayB2
My knights are all adulterers like his ownV
But mine are truer seeing they professB2
To be none other and say his hour is comeI2
The heathen are upon him his long lanceB2
Broken and his Excalibur a straw '-
-
Then Arthur turn'd to Kay the seneschalL
Take thou my churl and tend him curiouslyL
Like a king's heir till all his hurts be wholeL
The heathen but that ever climbing waveJ2
Hurl'd back again so often in empty foamK2
Hath lain for years at rest and renegadesB2
Thieves bandits leavings of confusion whomL2
The wholesome realm is purged of otherwhereW
Friends thro' your manhood and your fealty nowV
Make their last head like Satan in the NorthH2
My younger knights new made in whom your flowerW
Waits to be solid fruit of golden deedsB2
Move with me toward their quelling which achievedE
The loneliest ways are safe from shore to shoreW
But thou Sir Lancelot sitting in my placeB2
Enchair'd to morrow arbitrate the fieldE
For wherefore shouldst thou care to mingle with itE
Only to yield my Queen her own againV
Speak Lancelot thou art silent is it wellL
-
-
Thereto Sir Lancelot answer'd It is wellL
Yet better if the King abide and leaveM2
The leading of his younger knights to meL
Else for the King has will'd it it is wellL
-
-
Then Arthur rose and Lancelot follow'd himN2
And while they stood without the doors the KingC2
Turn'd to him saying Is it then so wellL
Or mine the blame that oft I seem as heL
Of whom was written 'A sound is in his ears'B2
The foot that loiters bidden go the glanceB2
That only seems half loyal to commandE
A manner somewhat fall'n from reverenceB2
Or have I dream'd the bearing of our knightsB2
Tells of a manhood ever less and lowerW
Or whence the fear lest this my realm uprear'dE
By noble deeds at one with noble vowsB2
From flat confusion and brute violence sB2
Reel back into the beast and be no moreW
-
-
He spoke and taking all his younger knightsB2
Down the slope city rode and sharply turn'dE
North by the gate In her high bower the QueenV
Working a tapestry lifted up her headE
Watch'd her lord pass and knew not that she sigh'dE
Then ran across her memory the strange rhymeO2
Of bygone Merlin Where is he who knowsB2
From the great deep to the great deep he goesB2
-
-
But when the morning of a tournamentE
By these in earnest those in mockery call'dE
The Tournament of the Dead InnocenceB2
Brake with a wet wind blowing LancelotE
Round whose sick head all night like birds of preyW
The words of Arthur flying shriek'd aroseB2
And down a streetway hung with folds of pureW
White samite and by fountains running wineV
Where children sat in white with cups of goldE
Moved to the lists and there with slow sad stepsB2
Ascending fill'd his double dragon'd chairW
-
-
He glanced and saw the stately galleriesB2
Dame damsel each thro' worship of their QueenV
White robed in honour of the stainless childE
And some with scatter'd jewels like a bankP2
Of maiden snow mingled with sparks of fireW
He look'd but once and vail'd his eyes againV
-
-
The sudden trumpet sounded as in a dreamQ2
To ears but half awaked then one low rollL
Of Autumn thunder and the jousts beganV
And ever the wind blew and yellowing leafR2
And gloom and gleam and shower and shorn plumeL2
Went down it Sighing weariedly as oneV
Who sits and gazes on a faded fireW
When all the goodlier guests are past awayW
Sat their great umpire looking o'er the listsB2
He saw the laws that ruled the tournamentE
Broken but spake not once a knight cast downV
Before his throne of arbitration cursedE
The dead babe and the follies of the KingC2
And once the laces of a helmet crack'dE
And show'd him like a vermin in its holeL

Alfred Lord Tennyson



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