And many knights he passed, nor saw; who asked What quest he rode. Inscrutable deeds behind His visor, and along his sullen spear Adventure bitter as a burning ray, Into the night he galloped with the stars.
And one lone night, two years thereafter,--lost Within a forest wilder than wild Dean; Where neither wind nor water shook the leaves, That hung as turned to stone above the moss And grass, that wrapped the scaly rocks, death-dry, And barren torrents; where he had not found Or man or hut, or slot of boar or deer, Through miles and miles of lamentable trees And twisted thorns; beneath the autumn moon,-- (Pale as a nun's face seen in cloistered walks)-- Above dead tree-tops, like the rugged rock Of melancholy cliffs, he saw wild walls Of some vague castle thrust gray battlements And hoary towers, like a wizard's dream. Great greedy weeds and burrs and briers packed Its moat and roadway: at the very gate Weeds higher than a man; their ancient stalks Devoured with the dust and spider-webs, Or smothered with the slime where croaked the toad. And Peredur against the portal rode, And with his spear-point beat upon its bolts A sounding minute. But no wolf-hound bayed; Only dull echoes of interior walls And hollow rock that arched the empty halls. And once again his truncheon shook the gate And roused a round-eyed owl that screamed and blinked, Like some fierce gargoyle, on the bartizan; And from a crevice, like an omen, hurled A frantic bat. And then he heard a grate, Concealed within the gloomy battlements, Slide slowly; and a lean, gaunt, red-haired youth, Lit with a link, addressed him. And he saw That famine had sunk hollows in his cheeks, And fixed gaunt misery in mouth and eyes. "What knight art thou?" he asked. "And whence dost come?"-- And Peredur replied, "First let me in. I am of Arthur's Court. Long have I ridd'n Through miles and miles of melancholy woods. The night begins to storm. And I would rest." Then said the youth, sad mirth about his mouth, "Rest shalt thou; yea: and since thou, haply, hast Fasted all day, thou shalt break bread with us."-- Then he retired from the grated slide: Undid harsh chains and shot back stubborn bolts; And, stiff with rust, the snarling hinges swung. And Peredur rode armed into a court, Neglected, and pathetic with strewn leaves And offal, where the weed and wire-grass Creviced with wisps the loose and broken stones: And overhead, around the mournful walls, Huge oaks thrust ancient boughs of mistletoe And withered leaves, whose twisted wildness seemed The beckoning arms of hunger, and the hands, Hooked and distorted, darkly threatening, Of murder; enemies that, pitiless, Had laid long siege to that old forest hold.