For months it rested in the stone, The sword Excalibur; The noblest knights of England's realm Strove hard the steel to stir; For word had gone through all the land That he who drew the blade Should fill the sovereign's empty throne, The rightful king be made.
The flower of island chivalry Had come from far and near, To try their skill at tournament The first day of the year. Mid the barons went Sir Ector, His valiant son, Sir Kaye, And his foster-child, young Arthur, Forth to the courtly fray.
Unknown to all, dead Uther's son Mix'd with the noble throng, Who dream'd not that to stripling page Could crown and throne belong. "Now, grammercy," quoth Arthur, In riding by Sir Kaye, "Good brother mine, how came you out Without a sword to-day?"
Sir Kaye look'd down, and paled to see No weapon at his side: Then back his comrade spurr'd his steed, Across the meadows wide, To where lay idle in its sheath The knight's forgotten blade, But found that not a single squire Had in the castle stay'd.
Quoth Arthur then, with sudden wrath, "From yonder mystic stone I'll pluck the sword, that good Sir Kaye May wield it as his own!" So, lighting down from off his horse, Towards the empty tent In which was kept Excalibur His eager footsteps bent.
In golden-letter'd hilt was bright, Its knightly guards away; And so, with brave and fearless heart, He made his bold essay. He grasp'd the handle in his hand, Its point leap'd sharp and free. "My brother shall not go unarm'd To battle now!" cried he.
When old Sir Ector saw the blade Flash in the morning light, He knew it was the Sword of Fate That met his wondering sight, And ask'd of Arthur, "Whither came The steel thou gavest Sir Kaye?" "I bore it," was the plain reply, "From stone and tent away."
"Then, by my faith," the gray knight swore, "An' thou canst draw again The sword from out the selfsame place, A monarch thou shalt reign!" And back within the marble stone Prince Arthur thrust the blade, While long in vain to pluck it thence Both high and low essay'd.
"Come hither; strive again, my son!" And quick on Ector's sight, In Arthur's hand, the marvellous steel Was flashing keen and bright. Then kneel'd Sir Ector and Sir Kaye, With every squire and lord, To greet as lawful king the youth Who lean'd upon the Sword!
Then spoke his aged foster-sire. "Ye hail no child of mine!" But wist not buried Uther's heir Was king by right divine. Thus Arthur through Excalibur Received his father's crown; And ever through Excalibur He kept his high renown!
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"I
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