“Sire! You are welcome here;
glad be Sir Robert’s cheer!
He will accord it dear,
knights of such worth draw near
and seek his realm.
Armour that shines you wear,
weapons of war you bear,
noble your knightly air,
ever shall trumpets blare
your high esteem.”
“I am Sir Trefor, and I serve the King;
I see that his words were a powerful thing!
For he said I would seem just as strong as I’m brave -
and but for those words, you would think me a knave!”
“Puzzled indeed am I;
as for your riddling, why?
You with your helm so high!
Seldom do knights draw nigh
to Robert’s land.”
“Show me this land, and then show me its lord;
I come on a quest that has led me toward
northern lands beyond forests and dragons and dreams,
through enchantment and wizard’s mysterious schemes.”
“Surely the bells will chime!
Sire, I would cast in rhyme,
mummery, verse, and mime
deeds that you did sublime -
tell me your tale!”
“First I must see all this land, and then meet
Sir Robert, whose fields are abounding in wheat,
for I bear from King Arthur a quest to bring back
missing summer, whose presence most sadly we lack.”
The Fool then led Sir Trefor through the realm;
and everywhere he went the maidens swooned,
striking his heart thus many a mortal wound,
such as he found his mind did overwhelm.
The things the Fool did show to him that day
were mostly not of any great remark;
the land was laid out like a rolling park,
where nature’s endless bounty held its sway.
At last they neared Sir Robert’s clutching towers
that beautifully stretched the sky to hold;
the afternoon was many hours old;
they stood beside a river clothed in flowers.