The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1859-10-13
{" Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate


For another heir in his earldom safe;
| An old, bent man, wogn out and frail
| He came hack from seeking the Holy Grail
Little he rocked of his earldOm's loss,
No naore on his surcoat was blazoned the cross
But deep ia his soul the sign he wore,
The badge of the suffering and the poor
Again is the leper beside him asking, fol-
Christs sweet sake, an alms,-
" White as the ice-isles of the Northern seas
| In the desolate horror of his disease.
" And Sir Launfal said-'I behold in thee
/ An image of Him who died on the tree;
Thou also hast had thy crown of thorns,-
Thou also hast had the worlds butfets and
scorns-
Mild Mays Son acknowledge me,
Behold through Him give to thee!
4" Then the soul of the Ieper stood up in his
eyes
And looked at Sir I.aunfal, and straghtway
he
Remembered in what laughter guise
He had flung an aims to leprosie,
When he Gagged his young life in gilded mail,
And set forth in search of the Holy Grail.
The heart within him was ashes and dust;
He parted in twain his single crust,
He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink,
And gave the leper to eat and drink;
It was mouldy crust of coarse brown bread,
IT was water out of wooden bowl, -
Yet with fine wheaton bread was the leper fed,
And t was red wine he drank with his
thirsty soul"
The leper no longer crouched at the side Of
Sir Launfal, but stood transfgured, glorifed
before him. .....
" Shining and tall and fair and straight
As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate
Himself the Gate whereby men can
Eater the temple of God in Man.
&" His words were shed softer than leaves from
the pine,
And they fell on Sir Launfal as SHOWS on the
brine;
And the voice that was calmer than silence
said,
t Lo, it is !, be not afraid
In many climes, without avail,
Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail
Behold, it is here.-this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streaInet for NE but now:
This crust is my body broken for thee,
This water His blood that died on the tree;
The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,
In whatso we share with anothers need
Net that which we give, but what we share
For the gift without the gver is bare;
Who bestows himself with his aims feeds
three
Himself, his hungcring neighbor and me-
" Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound -
The Grail in my castle here is found
Hang my idle armor upon the wall,
Let it be the spiders bauquet-hall
He must be fenced with stronger mail
Who would seek and find the Holy Grail
" The castle gate stands open now,
And the wanderer is welcome to the hall
AS the hangbird is to the elul- tree bough;
No longer scowl the turrets tall, \
The meanest serf on Sir Launfal's land
Has hall and bower at his command
And there's no poor man in the North Countree
But is lord of the earldom as much as he."
Unlike the Holy Grail in whose search the
midday of Sir Launfal's life was vainly spent.
the good the freedom of soul, the more per-
feet life for which we seek, is no myth, but an
ever present reality,--a want of our natures
unsatisfed with the aimless, hollow lives we
live. We may wander in the fair fields of Uto-
pia-la for fancied pleasure, akin to the real
We may look with christians hope for the
| rest and quiet of the grave, but true happiness
is found in taking up life's crosses and duties,
not as burdens, but as joyful helps toward a
preparation Of heart and spirit meet to enjoy
the society of the loved and good, here and
hereafter In cur own humble homes, in our
endeavors to be useful TO others, we may full
| fill the law of God. find the realization of our
hitherto unattained desires, and drink of that
sacred Grail, whose waters of Faith, Hope
Love and Charity, are for the healing of every
thirsty soul.
! CoUDERsPoRT, Oct. 9, 1889.