men-at-arms dismounted at the horse-block in the courtyard, but Kilhugh still sat upon his steed and rode into the Hal'.

"I greet

"Hail to thee, King Arthur!" he cried. thee and thy guests and thy companions and thy warriors. My greeting is to the lowest as well as to the highest of all that have a seat within this Hall. May thy name, King Arthur, and thy fame and thy renown be forever held in glorious memory throughout the length and the breadth of this land!"

"Hail to thee, noble youth!" returned Arthur. "Thou art right welcome. Here is a place for thee between two of my knights. Sit down, and my minstrels will play for thee."

But Kilhugh made answer: "I have not come hither, sire, to eat and drink, but to crave of thee a boon. If thou wilt grant it me, I will do thee such service as thou mayest command; and I will carry the praise of thy bounty and thy power into every land. But if thou dost refuse, I will spread ill reports of thee to the four quarters of the world."

Then King Arthur was greatly pleased, and he said: "Ask thy boon, young chieftain. Thou shalt have whatever thy tongue may name, as far as the wind dries and the rain moistens and the sun revolves and the sea encircles and the earth extends. Thou shalt have anything that is mine, except my ship that bears me over the sea, and the mantle in which I can walk unseen, and my good sword, and my keen

lance, and my shield, and my gleaming dagger, and Guinevere my wife. Ask what thou wilt."

"My request is, that thou wilt cut my hair," answered Kilhugh.

"Thy request is granted," quoth the king.

Then Arthur called for a golden comb and a pair of scissors with silver loops. And he combed the hair of the prince, as he sat upon his steed, and cut it both front and back.

"Now tell me thy name," he said.

"My name is Kilhugh," replied the prince. "My father is Prince Kilith, and my mother was a sister of the fair Ygerne."

"Then we are cousins," cried Arthur, "and I give thee leave to ask another boon. Ask what thou wilt." "Promise me, for the honor of thy kingdom, to grant my boon," said Kilhugh.

"I promise."

"Then do I crave of thee to obtain for me Olwen, the daughter of Thistlehair, chief of the Giants, to be my wife. For the sake of the daughters of the Island of the Mighty, I crave thy help to seek this maiden. For the sake of Guinevere and of her sister, for the sake of Lynette of the Magic Ring, for the sake of Cordelia, the daughter of King Lear, the loveliest maiden in this island, and for the sake of Iseult la Belle, and of Elaine, and of Angarad of the Golden Hand-for the sake of these and many others, I crave thy help.'

Then said Arthur, "O prince and cousin, I have never heard of this maiden, Olwen; I have never heard of her kindred. But I will send messengers to seek her; only grant them time to find her and return."

"To-day is New Year's Day," answered the prince. "I give them from this hour till the last day of the year."

And having said these words, he dismounted from his steed and went and sat by King Arthur's side in the midst of the heroes of the Table Round.

MY

SIR GALAHAD

Y good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,

My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.

The shattering trumpet shrilleth high,
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel;

They reel, they roll in clanging lists,

And when the tide of combat stands, Perfume and flowers fall in showers, That lightly rain from ladies' hands.

How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favors fall!
For them I battle till the end,

To save from shame and thrall;
But all my heart is drawn above,
My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine;
I never felt the kiss of love,

Nor maiden's hand in mind.

More bounteous aspects on me beam,
Me mightier transports move and thrill;
So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer
A virgin heart in work and will.

When down the stormy crescent goes,
A light before me swims,
Between dark stems the forest glows,
I hear a noise of hymns.

Then by some secret shrine I ride;

I hear a voice, but none are there;
The stalls are void, the doors are wide,
The tapers burning fair.

Fair gleams the snowy altar cloth,

The silver vessels sparkle clean,
The shrill bell rings, the censer swings,
And solemn chaunts resound between.

Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres
I find a magic bark.

I leap on board; no helmsman steers;
I float till all is dark.