Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/279

 At this great wizard's coming unannounced And unattended. When the way was open The stately messenger, now bowing low In reverence and awe, bade Merlin enter; And Merlin, having entered, heard the gate Clang back behind him ; and he swore no gate Like that had ever clanged in Camelot, Or any other place if not in hell. "I may be dead; and this good fellow here, With all his keys," he thought, "may be the Devil, Though I were loath to say so, for the keys Would make him rather more akin to Peter; And that's fair reasoning for this fair weather." "The lady Vivian says you are most welcome," Said now the stately-favored servitor, "And are to follow me. She said, 'Say Merlin A pilgrim and a stranger in appearance, Though in effect my friend and humble servant Is welcome for himself, and for the sound Of his great name that echoes everywhere.' " "I like you and I like your memory," Said Merlin, curiously, "but not your gate. Why forge for this elysian wilderness A thing so vicious with unholy noise?" "There's a way out of every wilderness For those who dare or care enough to find it," The guide said : and they moved along together, Down shaded ways, through open ways with hedgerows. And into shade again more deep than ever, But edged anon with rays of broken sunshine In which a fountain, raining crystal music, Made faery magic of it through green leafage, Till Merlin's eyes were dim with preparation For sight now of the lady Vivian.