The Knight rides forth in coat of mail Into the roar of the world. And here is Life: the vines in the vale And friend and foe, and the feast in the hall, And May and the maid, and the glen and the grail; God's flags afloat on every wall In a thousand streets unfurled.
Beneath the armour of the Knight Behind the chain's black links Death crouches and thinks and thinks: "When will the sword's blade sharp and bright Forth from the scabbard spring And cut the network of the cloak Enmeshing me ring on ring— When will the foe's delivering stroke Set me free To dance And sing?"
I am like a flag unfurled in space, I scent the oncoming winds and must bend with them, While the things beneath are not yet stirring, While doors close gently and there is silence in the chimneys And the windows do not yet tremble and the dust is still heavy— Then I feel the storm and am vibrant like the sea And expand and withdraw into myself And thrust myself forth and am alone in the great storm.
