Part I: The Knight rideth forth from Caerleon seeking Adventures and cometh unto a Castle in a dense Forest

He promised to return at Whitsuntide,
And rode out from the lands ‘neath Arthur’s sway,
Through springtime’s valleys green, by rivers wide
Where bright and bonnie field and orchard lay,
Then narrow winding paths for many a day
He followed on through wild waste mountain lands,
Where grey rock walls loomed high above the way,
And dark the forest stood on every hand,
And there one day above a glen he came to stand.

The path before him fell betwixt the trees
Down deep into a stony wooded waste,
And like a ship half-sunken in the sea
He saw a castle in that forest placed,
(The which, hard by, a ruined convent faced,)
So down into the vale his horse he steered,
And took each dusty turn the pathway traced,
Until at last, as sunlight disappeared,
Mid trees and high grown weeds the castle gate he neared.

The iron gate on two stone pillars hung,
The rust showed that it long had lain at rest,
And from the pillar tops the grass had sprung,
And on the crumbled arch sat sparrows’ nests.
He struck the bars an entrance to request,
Not knowing who but he could hear his call,
And in the dark, a door yet unnoticed
Beside the gate, swung open in the wall
And there with candle stood a youth, slender and tall.

“A knight in arms upon the road at night!”
He cried, and asked “Now seek you rest within?”
As to his blazon aloft he held his light.
The knight replied “You see a peregrine
Who worn with wanderings wide would welcome win.”
Then light and porter all at once were gone,
But soon the gate swung wide with grating din,
And through the gate the young man led him on
Up to a courtyard, wide as that of Caerleon.

The lonely flame illumined the courtyard stones,
And black against its light he saw a tree,
In middle of the courtyard it had grown
And spread a dark and tangled canopy.
One other light over the branches he
Saw glint from casement distant, high above.
And all was hung with mourning cloth to see,
And all beneath the shroud the branches wove,
Was quiet as a grave forgot in woodland grove.

Up winding stairs to seek that one lit place
He followed on this candle-bearing guide,
Then through an arch he saw a care-filled face --
A lady sitting sad by faint fire’s side,
Her dress worn thin, but mended well with pride.
Nine youths as well sat in that hall who were
Most like to him who led the knight inside,
Red haired and thin, their jerkins edged with fur
And sad their eyes as well, though looked they not like her.

As he came near they rose in courtesy,
And he who seemed the eldest reverence made,
‘Good sir” he said “pray sit you here by me;
Let us converse until the board is laid.”
Then came into the hall nine beauteous maids,
Who took his armour off and cushions spread
For him to sit upon. Then was he bade
To tell his journeyings; how he had sped,
Until unto this lonely castle he was led.