Explore "The Wild Knight and other Poems: a Chord of Colour" by G.K. Chesterton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My Lady clad herself in grey, / That caught and clung about her throat; / Then all the long grey winter day / On me a living splendour smote; / And why grey palmers holy are, / And why grey minsters great in story, / And grey skies ring the morning star, / And grey hairs are a crown of glory.
My Lady clad herself in green, / Like meadows where the wind-waves pass; / Then round my spirit spread, I ween, / A splendour of forgotten grass. / Then all that dropped of stem or sod, / Hoarded as emeralds might be, / I bowed to every bush, and trod / Amid the live grass fearfully.