Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

When a huge stranger enters the main hall in Camelot during a banquet and invites any of the assembly there to take a single swipe at him with his own axe, in return for a similar swipe at them in the future, he has no volunteers.

Gawain finally accepts the challenge because, he says, he is the youngest and so his life was the least indispensable of all those present. The Knight bows his neck, Gawain raises the axe and decapitates the Knight with his single blow; whereupon the Knight picks up his head, confirms a return meeting with Gawain a year and a day from thence, tucks his head under his arm, re-mounts his horse, and rides off into the murk.

Aye, and what then? How the story, the intricate plot, opens up from then on is at the heart of this poem’s unique edge-of-seat, extraordinarily modern brilliance.  

An adventure like no other, the poetry and narrative drama are wonderful, and you end up having drunk to the dregs an inspiring poetic lesson in how to face the future and not be disabled by fear of the morrow.