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what's o'clock
THE RED KNIGHT
I saw him,
Standing in red armour before an altar
Under the fish-scale roof of a church
In a river valley in mid-France.
The organ was crying an anthem along the great nave
And the eddy of it tickled the noses of the impish stone manikins with foxes' tails curled beneath the architraves.
When the organ ceased crying, he lifted his head
And gazed through the clear-story windows at the white-blue of an after-rain sky.
Suddenly a thin scatter of sunlight smote upon his armour
And it flamed like a bonfire, and he in the midst, unnoticing.
Standing in red armour before an altar
Under the fish-scale roof of a church
In a river valley in mid-France.
The organ was crying an anthem along the great nave
And the eddy of it tickled the noses of the impish stone manikins with foxes' tails curled beneath the architraves.
When the organ ceased crying, he lifted his head
And gazed through the clear-story windows at the white-blue of an after-rain sky.
Suddenly a thin scatter of sunlight smote upon his armour
And it flamed like a bonfire, and he in the midst, unnoticing.
