Sir Corwin du Mont
fallen in Crown Tourney, April, A.S. XXIV*
A knight did ride forth from Abbey of Leng,
With the Hammer to stay him in his pose,
And to show him the way, the compass rose.
Black was its visage, and bright was his mien.
In silver sunlight link'd ring on ring
As if 'twere forg'd by some elvish hands
To gird him safely through these troubled lands
That foundered since the passing of the king.
To try his sword, Sir Corwin did depart
His bless'd Abbey where his soul might rest.
A higher purpose called him to the deed.
But 'though he had great spirit and pure heart
A knight with strong clain did win the test,
Think well on one who strove for fair Caid.
-- Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler
*Thoron was the editor