A dragon wing'd, and all from stem 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 watch'd 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, Lash'd 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 follow'd calm, Free sky and stars: "And this same child," he said, "Is he who reigns; nor could I part in peace Till this were told." And saying this the With Modred hither in the summertime, Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven knight. Modred for want of worthier was the judge. Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said, "Thou hast half prevail'd against me," said so- -he Tho' Modred biting his thin lips was mute, For he is alway sullen: what care I?' And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair Ask'd, Mother, tho' ye count me still the child, Sweet mother, do ye love the child?' She laugh'd, 'Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.' 'Then, mother, and ye love the child,' he said, 'Being a goose and rather tame than wild, Hear the child's story.' 'Yea, my wellbeloved, An 'twere but of the goose and golden eggs.' And Gareth answer'd her with kindling eyes, 'Nay, nay, good mother, but this egg of How can ye keep me tether'd to youShame. Man am I grown, a man's work must I do. Follow the deer? follow the Christ, the King, Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King Else, wherefore born?' To whom the mother said, 'Sweet son, for there be many who deem him not, Or will not deem him, wholly proven King Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King, When I was frequent with him in my youth, And heard him Kingly speak, and doubted him No more than he, himself; but felt him mine, Of closest kin to me: yet - wilt thou leave Thine easeful biding here, and risk thine all, Life, limbs, for one that is not proven King? Stay, till the cloud that settles round his birth Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son.' |