Aye – I was born. Of devil’s dam, some said.
My young shoulders carried an elder’s head!
My piercing eyes of crystal blue saw clear.
Eld Merlin, I. Magician, wizard, seer.
In Briton’s Isle I stand. It is my home.
I, its last bastion. When legions of Rome
Withdrew – I rallied round her native kings
To Arthur’s court – as famous epic sings –
To raise High King Arthur Pendragon.
In Camelot his court. He its sovereign.
These recollections in my mind I see –
Locked safely still inside my memory!
The Romans gone, our enemies renew
Their vicious forays. Many against few!
Yet we opposed them by our strong right hand –
All those who thought to conquer Briton’s land!
The Saxon northmen, fierce and rude, who bore
The bladed axe: we gave them endless war!
The Picts, the brigand Scots – we hewed them down
Destroyed their forts, and left them overthrown.
And longer we’d have held out, and bravely –
Except within our ranks brewed treachery!
Myself, by Vivian’s magick beguiled
She led away like some benighted child
And used her magic to imprison me
Within adamantine walls of sorcery!
Now powerless was I! Nor an escape
Could I from that drear place for decades shape!
And thus I could do nothing when the wrack
Of kingdoms came: when enemies attacked
With fearsome hordes lured on by traitor gold!
Then Arthur’s knights spurred from their stone stronghold
Only to find Sir Modred chose that time
To perpetrate his hideous, henious crime!
I – helpless! – saw dear Arthur turn in rage
His knights about – and in grim fight engage
Before, behind, embattled. All about
He fought, and slew all those his reign did flout
Although it cost him life! It nearly did –
But finally the corpse of bad Mordred
Upon the field dropped, by Arthur slain.
King Arthur – nearly dead – resigns his reign!
Withdrawn by white magic far oversea
To Avalon will tarry: until he
Is healed as was foretold. Then returning
Returns to us – our once and future king!
Until this time, I Merlin, prisoned here
Wait out the times. Endure the weary year
And cyclic ages. Until prophecy
Foretells that I will once again be free
To guard, protect, to counsel and to guide,
While High King Arthur rules his realm beside.
And Camelot returns again to earth.
And what’s worthless is swallowed up in Worth!
When vices shrivel. Virtue is restored,
And Briton bows again before her lord!