And Lancelot ever promised, but remain'd,
And still they met and met. Again she said,
"O Lancelot, if thou love me get thee hence,"
And then they were agreed upon a night
(When the good King should not be there)
to meet
And part forever, Passion-pale they met
And greeted; hands in hands, and eye to eye,
Low on the border of her couch they sat
Stammering and staring; it was their last
hour,
A madness of farewells.
A simple poem by Alfred Tennyson, who suggested that an image capture its meaning. Even though Lancelot and Guinevere knew they would meet again, their parting was always a cause of heartache. Their love though wrong was true and pure.
And still they met and met. Again she said,
"O Lancelot, if thou love me get thee hence,"
And then they were agreed upon a night
(When the good King should not be there)
to meet
And part forever, Passion-pale they met
And greeted; hands in hands, and eye to eye,
Low on the border of her couch they sat
Stammering and staring; it was their last
hour,
A madness of farewells.
A simple poem by Alfred Tennyson, who suggested that an image capture its meaning. Even though Lancelot and Guinevere knew they would meet again, their parting was always a cause of heartache. Their love though wrong was true and pure.