Explore "Idylls of the King" by Alfred Tennyson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A storm was coming, but the winds were still, / And in the wild woods of Broceliande, / Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old / It looked a tower of ivied masonwork, / At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.
For he that always bare in bitter grudge / The slights of Arthur and his Table, Mark / The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice, / A minstrel of Caerleon by strong storm / Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say / That out of naked knightlike purity / Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl / But the great Queen herself, fought in her name, / Sware by her-vows like theirs, that high in heaven / Love most, but neither marry, nor are given / In marriage, angels of our Lord's report.