Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege. "And near him stood the Lady of the Lake,

Who knows a subtler magic than his own,

Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful.

She gave the King his huge crosshilted sword,

Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist

Of incense curled about her, and her face

Well-nigh was hidden in the minster gloom;

But there was heard among the holy hymns

A voice as of the waters, for she dwells

Down in a deep, calm, whatsoever

storms