ARTHUR TO GUENEVER

By John William Draper

O Guenever, O Guenever once mine,

God may assoil thy failing, but can I

Whose quivering soul is blasted, and whose sky

Is tempest-rent in agony?— Ah, thine,

Thine might have been the fire that should refine

My table round to silver chastity,

Lofty ensample to mine Hall. Oh, why

Should thy soft light no longer purely shine

For my parched soul to bathe in? Guenever,

My Guenever, yet thou wert only mortal —

So too am I; and shall thy every tear

Of anguish well, and I not mark? O hear,

And help me, God, to open wide the portal

Of pardon in my heart for Guenever —