Summary

Aletta E. Marty The Ontario High School Reader

For the only boon they crave Is the guerdon of all good ships and true, the boon of a deep-sea grave.
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound.
No more she mounts the circles from Fundy to the Horn, From Cuba to the Cape runs down the tropic morn, Explores the Vast Uncharted where great bergs ride in ranks, Nor shouts a broad "Ahoy" to the dories on the Banks.
Source: Gutenberg

Aletta E. Marty The Ontario High School Reader

This crust is my body broken for thee, This water His blood that died on the tree;160 The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need; Not what we give, but what we share,— For the gift without the giver is bare; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,—165 Himself, his hungering neighbour, and me."
Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound:— "The Grail in my castle here is found! Hang my idle armour up on the wall, Let it be the spider's banquet-hall;170 He must be fenced with stronger mail Who would seek and find the Holy Grail."
Source: Gutenberg

Aletta E. Marty The Ontario High School Reader

Injustice, wrong, oppression acted upon him, as it were, mechanically, and aroused every fibre of his being, and from that moment to the repairing of the injustice, the undoing of the wrong, and the destruction of the oppression, he gave his mind, his heart, his soul, his whole life with an energy, with an intensity, with a vigour paralleled in no man unless it be the first Napoleon.
Source: Gutenberg

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