Now the New-Year nighs, and the night passes,
Dáy treads on dark, as deems the Almighty;
But weathers full wild in the world awaken,
Clouds strike keenly the cold to the earth,
With enough of the North the nakèd to teen.
The snow shower’d snell and snapèd the wild,
The whistling wind from the welkin smote
And drove each dale full of drifts very deep.
Oft listen’d the leal man that lay in his bed;
Though he lock’d his lids, but little he slept,
And by each cock that crew he knew well his hour.
Full early was he up, ere ány day dawn’d,
For there was light from a lamp that leam’d in his chamber;
He call’d to his chamberlain (and the call he answer’d),
And bade bring his byrnie and saddle his bay;
Then his man is afoot and fetches his weeds,
And graithes me Sir Gawain in a great fashion.
First he clad him in clothes the cold for to temper,
And eke in his harness that he had housèd with care,
Both his pounce and his plates, polisht full clean,
And the rings of his rich mail, scour’d of all rust;
All was fresh as at first, and fain was he then
to speed.
He had on him each piece,
Well wiped, from foulness free’d;
Gayest from here to Greece,
Gawain bade bring his steed.