Excerpt from From Avalon: And Other Poems I know it well, that green and tranquil isle, Encircled by the arms of summer tides That sway and smile, and whisper of the sea. Not far away it lies its fragrant Shades Shot through by golden lances of the sun, And stirred by gentle airs that wander Still, On noiseless feet, to find the chamber fair Where, couched on mystic herbs and asphodel, Healed of his hurts, King Arthur lies asleep. Oft have I found its shelter. When the stress Of warring winds, and Sharp tumultuous storms Have left me spent and breathless on the field, Then my swift thoughts, for healing and for rest, Bear me away to peaceful Avalon. The sweet enchantments of the bounteous queen Have changed the shifting waves to fields of rye, And seas of meadow-grass, that softly break Against the low-browed wall that shuts about The blessed trees, veiled in eternal bloom.

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