TINTAGEL
I sat within Tintagel’s fabled walls,
Amid the scattered stones of human works
Crumbling upon the granite mount of God,
As life upon the rock Eternity.
And sitting there I heard two voices speak,
The busy Ocean and the slothful Past;
They whispered good King Arthur’s magic name,
The Past was sad, the heartless Ocean laughed.
Poor King, he lived for many happy years
In his illusion, ’till all knowledge came
Soul-stirring to this ruler of mankind,
Who only knew the lying half of man.
One blast of heavenly fire will kill the oak,
One touch of knowledge broke this kingly heart;
And so he donned his armour, took his sword
Excalibur, and put his helmet on,
And fought his way to Heaven, told his God
How wicked men had ridden through his dream,
Played with the devil at his Table-round,
Their souls for stakes. He told of all their sins,
The treacherous kiss of queenly Guinevere,
Eyes swimming with the sight of Lancelot,
How Merlin hoary with the frost of years,
In Vivien’s lovely arms one day betrayed
His life-long gathered lore of elfin charms,
How Gawain lied, how knightly vows were broken
As readily as lances in a tourney,
And how these reckless Christian paladins
Were thieves of honour, and the peerless dames
All sin and loveliness.
And God was silent.