/lit/ - Literature

>>7271344
Or maybe you're just jelly because you're locked out ;P

>>7257117
Yet Arthur would not eat until they were all served.
He seemed full of the joy of youth, almost childlike.
He was happy with his life; he cared little
For lying in bed or sitting still for a long time,
His young blood so stirred him and his wild brain.
And there was a custom, besides, that he meant to keep,
That he had assumed in his noble way: he would not eat
On such a holiday until he had been told
A new tale of some wonderful event,
Of some great marvel that he might believe
About kings, or arms, or other adventures,
Or unless someone came to ask for a proven knight
To join with him in jousting, putting his life in peril,
Risking life against life, each of them allowing
Fortune to grant the advantage to one of them.
This was the King's custom when he was holding court
At every great feast with his noble company
In the castle

So with his proud face there
Bravely he stands waiting
Bold in that New Year,
And joins in the merrymaking.

So the King in his strength was standing there by himself
Talking of court trifles to those at the high table.
There sat good Gawain with Guenever beside him
And Agravaine of the hard hand on the other side of her,
Both of them the King's nephews and famous knights.
Bishop Bawdewyn was up at the head of the table,
And then Ywain beside him, who was the son of Urien.
These were seated on the dais, and lavishly served,
And many renowned knights were near them at the side tables.
Then came the first course, to the blaring of trumpets
Rare and delicate dishes are served,
Mounds of fresh meat, and so many platters
That it was hard to find enough places
To set down the silver with the stews in it
on the tablecloth.

Each one as he pleases
Takes whatever he will.
For every two there are twelve dishes,
Good beer and bright wine both.

>>7245703
Yet Arthur would not eat until they were all served.
He seemed full of the joy of youth, almost childlike.
He was happy with his life; he cared little
For lying in bed or sitting still for a long time,
His young blood so stirred him and his wild brain.
And there was a custom, besides, that he meant to keep,
That he had assumed in his noble way: he would not eat
On such a holiday until he had been told
A new tale of some wonderful event,
Of some great marvel that he might believe
About kings, or arms, or other adventures,
Or unless someone came to ask for a proven knight
To join with him in jousting, putting his life in peril,
Risking life against life, each of them allowing
Fortune to grant the advantage to one of them.
This was the King's custom when he was holding court
At every great feast with his noble company
In the castle

So with his proud face there
Bravely he stands waiting
Bold in that New Year,
And joins in the merrymaking.

So the King in his strength was standing there by himself
Talking of court trifles to those at the high table.
There sat good Gawain with Guenever beside him
And Agravaine of the hard hand on the other side of her,
Both of them the King's nephews and famous knights.
Bishop Bawdewyn was up at the head of the table,
And then Ywain beside him, who was the son of Urien.
These were seated on the dais, and lavishly served,
And many renowned knights were near them at the side tables.
Then came the first course, to the blaring of trumpets
Rare and delicate dishes are served,
Mounds of fresh meat, and so many platters
That it was hard to find enough places
To set down the silver with the stews in it
on the tablecloth.

Each one as he pleases
Takes whatever he will.
For every two there are twelve dishes,
Good beer and bright wine both.

>>6701477
Yes and?

>>6624345
I try do the orders for morning and evening prayer each day. I use the 1928 prayerbook naturally.

>>6515303
Fake and gay.