Classic Poem

Musing on Camelot and Avalon
I dreamed you stood before me, Guinever,
And I was Launcelot, your heart's most dear.
But when of Arthur, him I thought upon
Who loved us both so well, and how anon
There fell from lips of that most envious peer,
Sir Agrivain, the word we came to fear, —
And how that iron face turned deathly wan: —

Then seemed I to repent me of our sin
The which we gave up earth and heaven for.
We knew no greater joy than love to win —
And love was rooted deep in our heart's core!
But honour fights back to an origin,
And there are gods we cannot long ignore.