· And spake sweet words, and comforted my heart, 348 And dried my tears, being a child with me. And many a time he came, and evermore As I grew greater grew with me; and sad At times he seem'd, and sad with him was I, Stern too at times, and then I loved him not,

But sweet again, and then I loved him well. And now of late I see him less and less, But those first days had golden hours for me,

For then I surely thought he would be king.

'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, 360 To hear him speak before he left his life. Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay the mage;

And when I enter'd 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 thro' the dismal night — a night

370

In which the bounds of heaven and earth were lost

"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."

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So Merlin riddling anger'd me; but

thou

Fear not to give this King thine only child,

Guinevere; so great bards of him will sing Hereafter, and dark sayings from of old Ranging and ringing thro' the minds of

men,

And echo'd 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

The splendor sparkling from aloft, and thought,

"An I could climb and lay my hand upon it,

Then were I wealthier than a leash of kings."

But ever when he reach'd a hand to climb, One that had loved him from his childhood caught

And stay'd him, "Climb not lest thou break thy neck,

I charge thee by my love," and so the boy, Sweet mother, neither clomb nor brake his neck,

But brake his very heart in pining for it, And past away.'

To whom the mother said 'True love, sweet son, had risk'd himself and climb'd,

And handed down the golden treasure to him.'

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