COLLECTED POEMS
Of Merlin's rumor-laden resurrection
Than Lancelot would have an ear to cherish,
Had sauntered off with his imagination
To Merlin's Eock, where now there was no Merlin
To meditate upon a whispering town
Below him in the silence. Once he said
To Gawaine: "You are young; and that being so,
Behold the shining city of our dreams
And of our King." "Long live the King," said Gawaine.
"Long live the King," said Merlin after him;
"Better for me that I shall not be King ;
Wherefore I say again, Long live the King,
And add, God save him, also, and all kings
All kings and queens. I speak in general.
Kings have I known that were but weary men
With no stout appetite for more than peace
That was not made for them." "Nor were they made
For kings," Gawaine said, laughing. "You are young,
Gawaine, and you may one day hold the world
Between your fingers, knowing not what it is
That you are holding. Better for you and me,
I think, that we shall not be kings."
Gawaine,
Remembering Merlin's words of long ago,
Frowned as he thought, and having frowned again,
He smiled and threw an acorn at a lizard :
"There's more afoot and in the air to-day
Than what is good for Camelot. Merlin
May or may not know all, but he said well
To say to me that he would not be King.
Nor more would I be King." Far down he gazed
On Camelot, until he made of it
A phantom town of many stillnesses,
236
