Idylls of the King (Unabridged). Alfred Tennyson

      The Finding of King Arthur

      ‘But let me tell thee now another tale:

       For Bleys, our Merlin’s master, as they say,

       Died but of late, and sent his cry to me,

       To hear him speak before he left his life.

       Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage;

       And when I entered told me that himself

       And Merlin ever served about the King,

       Uther, before he died; and on the night

       When Uther in Tintagil past away

       Moaning and wailing for an heir, the two

       Left the still King, and passing forth to breathe,

       Then from the castle gateway by the chasm

       Descending through the dismal night — a night

       In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost —

       Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps

       It seemed in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof

       A dragon winged, and all from stern to stern

       Bright with a shining people on the decks,

       And gone as soon as seen. And then the two

       Dropt to the cove, and watched the great sea fall,

       Wave after wave, each mightier than the last,

       Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep

       And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged

       Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame:

       And down the wave and in the flame was borne

       A naked babe, and rode to Merlin’s feet,

       Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried “The King!

       Here is an heir for Uther!” And the fringe

       Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand,

       Lashed at the wizard as he spake the word,

       And all at once all round him rose in fire,

       So that the child and he were clothed in fire.

       And presently thereafter followed calm,

       Free sky and stars: “And this the same child,” he said,

       “Is he who reigns; nor could I part in peace

       Till this were told.” And saying this the seer

       Went through the strait and dreadful pass of death,

       Not ever to be questioned any more

       Save on the further side; but when I met

       Merlin, and asked him if these things were truth —

       The shining dragon and the naked child

       Descending in the glory of the seas —

       He laughed as is his wont, and answered me

       In riddling triplets of old time, and said:

      ‘“Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky!

       A young man will be wiser by and by;

       An old man’s wit may wander ere he die.

       Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on the lea!

       And truth is this to me, and that to thee;

       And truth or clothed or naked let it be.

       Rain, sun, and rain! and the free blossom blows:

       Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows?

       From the great deep to the great deep he goes.”

      ‘So Merlin riddling angered me; but thou

       Fear not to give this King thy only child,

       Guinevere: so great bards of him will sing

       Hereafter; and dark sayings from of old

       Ranging and ringing through the minds of men,

       And echoed by old folk beside their fires

       For comfort after their wage-work is done,

       Speak of the King; and Merlin in our time

       Hath spoken also, not in jest, and sworn

       Though men may wound him that he will not die,

       But pass, again to come; and then or now

       Utterly smite the heathen underfoot,

       Till these and all men hail him for their king.’

      She spake and King Leodogran rejoiced,

       But musing, ‘Shall I answer yea or nay?’

       Doubted, and drowsed, nodded and slept, and saw,

       Dreaming, a slope of land that ever grew,

       Field after field, up to a height, the peak

       Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom king,

       Now looming, and now lost; and on the slope

       The sword rose, the hind fell, the herd was driven,

       Fire glimpsed; and all the land from roof and rick,

       In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind,

       Streamed to the peak, and mingled with the haze

       And made it thicker; while the phantom king

       Sent out at times a voice; and here or there

       Stood one who pointed toward the voice, the rest

       Slew on and burnt, crying, ‘No king of ours,

       No son of Uther, and no king of ours;’

       Till with a wink his dream was changed, the haze

       Descended, and the solid earth became

       As nothing, but the King stood out in heaven,

       Crowned. And Leodogran awoke, and sent

       Ulfius, and Brastias and Bedivere,

       Back to the court of Arthur answering yea.

      Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved

       And honoured most, Sir Lancelot, to ride forth

       And bring the Queen; — and watched him from the gates:

       And Lancelot past away among the flowers,

       (For then was latter April) and returned

       Among the flowers, in May, with Guinevere.

       To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint,

       Chief of the church in Britain, and before

       The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King

       That morn was married, while in stainless white,

       The fair beginners of a nobler time,

       And glorying in their vows and him, his knights

       Stood around him, and rejoicing in his joy.

       Far shone the fields of May through open door,

       The sacred altar blossomed white with May,

       The Sun of May descended on their King,

       They gazed on all earth’s beauty in their Queen,

       Rolled incense, and there past along the hymns

       A voice as of the waters, while the two

       Sware at the shrine of Christ a deathless love:

       And Arthur said, ‘Behold, thy doom is mine.

       Let chance what will, I love thee to the death!’

       To whom the Queen replied with drooping eyes,

       ‘King and my lord, I