'Now, by my faith,' said Arthur then,
'Two marvellous knights are they, whose ken
Toward battle makes the twain as ten,
And Balen most of all born men
⁠Passeth of prowess all I know
Or ever found or sought to see:
Would God he would abide with me
To face the times foretold of thee
⁠And all the latter woe.'

For there had Merlin shown the king
The doom that songs unborn should sing,
The gifts that time should rise and bring
Of blithe and bitter days to spring
⁠As weeds and flowers against the sun.
And on the king for fear's sake fell
Sickness, and sorrow deep as hell,
Nor even might sleep bid fear farewell
⁠If grace to sleep were won.