O my Rider

Homer travels from court to court. Every place he performs his poem he adds in a section about glorious ancestors to please the local audience. That's how the poem builds up. And that's why there are so many people in it who appear out of nowhere, get praised, do a little killing or dying and then are never heard from again.

I've just got to the death of Patroclus. And now the catalogue of war turns into something more truly dramatic- because this guy matters.

The Grail

The great cup tumbled, ringing like a bell
Thrown down upon the lion-guarded stair
When the cloud took Him; and its iron voice
Challenged the King's dead majesty to fear.

Rise up, Arthur. Galahad grail-seeker
Wails with the pale identical queens on the river.
The sculptured lion raises a clumsy paw:
Bors has lain down beneath the stones of law.

Lie uneasy, Guenever. Lancelot sword-lover
Burnt like a blade will share your bed no more.
Bared his red head, he weeps with shame and sickness-
His pride the sword-bridge to your heart of Gorre.

But the dead girl, the flower-crowned, alone
Walks without fear the bannered streets of heaven;
Lies nightly in the hollow of his hand-
The cradle of your fear her fort and haven.

She alone
Knew from her birth the mystic Avalon.

Sidney Keyes, Feb 1943

This is foryuki_onna to find.