MORVA (TO THE MEMORY OF COLONEL OWEN VAUGHAN - OWEN RHOSCOMYL) by ARTHUR GLYN PRYS-JONES - Poetry Explorer - Your Free Poetry Website for Classic and Contemporary Poetry

I

BENEATH the moon by Morva
A thousand warriors rest,
Each with a silver harp by his side
And a sword upon his breast:
And there they sleep till their Prince shall come
In splendour from the West.

II

At Morva, olden Morva,
There runs a tide that calls
The deepest secrets of the sea
To the dreaming castle walls:
And one day it will sing his name
When the purple twilight falls.

III

And down to moon-lit Morva
A wonder-ship will ride,
A ship of gold with a golden name—
And a host of ships beside,
And on her deck shall Arthur stand,
More radiant than a bride.

IV

And a thousand men will waken
And pledge him with their lips,
And a thousand men go marching
Down to the waiting ships,
And the splendour of their shining spears
Shall be the moon's eclipse.

V

And the magic sea will bear them
Beyond the night so far—
To shores where loom the long-lost worlds
Where the last adventures are,
And Arthur he shall lead them on
From star to utmost star.

VI

And in the moon by Morva
The sound of their crusade
Will sweep along the swinging tides
To every listening glade,
And then shall the world's great heart be healed
And the world's great songs be made.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MORVA (TO THE MEMORY OF COLONEL OWEN VAUGHAN - OWEN RHOSCOMYL) by ARTHUR GLYN PRYS-JONES

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