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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=518868" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tournament</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Joust First.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies,<br> And the knights still hurried amain<br>To the tournament under the ladies' eyes,<br> Where the jousters were Heart and Brain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart,<br> A youth in crimson and gold.<br>Flourished again: Brain stood apart,<br> Steel-armored, dark and cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heart's palfrey caracoled gayly round,<br> Heart tra-li-ra'd merrily;<br>But Brain sat still, with never a sound,<br> So cynical-calm was he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heart's helmet-crest bore favors three<br> From his lady's white hand caught;<br>While Brain wore a plumeless casque; not he<br> Or favor gave or sought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The herald blew; Heart shot a glance<br> To find his lady's eye,<br>But Brain gazed straight ahead his lance<br> To aim more faithfully.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They charged, they struck; both fell, both bled.<br> Brain rose again, ungloved,<br>Heart, dying, smiled and faintly said,<br> &quot;My love to my beloved!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">____<br>Camp French, Wilmington, N.C., May, 1862.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Joust Second.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A-many sweet eyes wept and wept,<br> A-many bosoms heaved again;<br>A-many dainty dead hopes slept<br> With yonder Heart-knight prone o' the plain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet stars will burn through any mists,<br> And the ladies' eyes, through rains of fate,<br>Still beamed upon the bloody lists<br> And lit the joust of Love and Hate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> III.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O strange! or ere a trumpet blew,<br> Or ere a challenge-word was given,<br>A knight leapt down i' the lists; none knew<br> Whether he sprang from earth or heaven.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IV.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His cheek was soft as a lily-bud,<br> His grey eyes calmed his youth's alarm;<br>Nor helm nor hauberk nor even a hood<br> Had he to shield his life from harm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> V.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No falchion from his baldric swung,<br> He wore a white rose in its place.<br>No dagger at his girdle hung,<br> But only an olive-branch, for grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And &quot;Come, thou poor mistaken knight,&quot;<br> Cried Love, unarmed, yet dauntless there,<br>&quot;Come on, God pity thee! -- I fight<br> Sans sword, sans shield; yet, Hate, beware!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spurred furious Hate; he foamed at mouth,<br> His breath was hot upon the air,<br>His breath scorched souls, as a dry drought<br> Withers green trees and burns them bare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VIII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Straight drives he at his enemy,<br> His hairy hands grip lance in rest,<br>His lance it gleams full bitterly,<br> God! -- gleams, true-point, on Love's bare breast!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IX.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Love's grey eyes glow with a heaven-heat,<br> Love lifts his hand in a saintly prayer;<br>Look! Hate hath fallen at his feet!<br> Look! Hate hath vanished in the air!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> X.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then all the throng looked kind on all;<br> Eyes yearned, lips kissed, dumb souls were freed;<br>Two magic maids' hands lifted a pall<br> And the dead knight, Heart, sprang on his steed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XI.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Love cried, &quot;Break me his lance, each knight!<br> Ye shall fight for blood-athirst Fame no more!&quot;<br>And the knights all doffed their mailed might<br> And dealt out dole on dole to the poor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> XII.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then dove-flights sanctified the plain,<br> And hawk and sparrow shared a nest.<br>And the great sea opened and swallowed Pain,<br> And out of this water-grave floated Rest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sidney+Lanier">Sidney Lanier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=518868" data-title="The Tournament de Sidney Lanier" data-description="Joust First.


 I.

Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies,
 And the knights still hurried amain
To the tournament under the ladies' eyes,
 Where the jousters were Heart and Brain.

 II.

Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart,
 A youth in cr..."></div>
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