'Gareth and Lynette And then when turning to Lynette he told The tale of Gareth, petulantly she said, ‘Ay well—ay well—for worse than being fooled Of others, is to fool one’s self. A cave, Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats and drinks And forage for the horse, and flint for fire. But all about it flies a honeysuckle. Seek, till we find.’ And when they sought and found, Sir Gareth drank and ate, and all his life Past into sleep; on whom the maiden gazed. ‘Sound sleep be thine! sound cause to sleep hast thou. Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him As any mother? Ay, but such a one As all day long hath rated at her child, And vext his day, but blesses him asleep— Good lord, how sweetly smells the honeysuckle In the hushed night, as if the world were one Of utter peace, and love, and gentleness! A Tennyson'