Page:Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds Vol 1.djvu/248

232 On a subsequent visit she uttered another prophecy, which, in the opinion of her believers, still remains unfulfilled, but may be expected to be realised during the present century: The time shall come when seas of blood Shall mingle with a greater flood. Great noise there shall be heard--great shouts and cries, And seas shall thunder louder than the skies; Then shall three lions fight with three and bring Joy to a people, honour to a king. That fiery year as soon as o'er, Peace shall then be as before; Plenty shall every where be found, And men with swords shall plough the ground." But the most famous of all her prophecies is one relating to London. Thousands of persons still shudder to think of the woes that are to burst over this unhappy realm, when London and Highgate are joined by one continuous line of houses. This junction, which, if the rage for building lasts much longer, in the same proportion as heretofore, bids fair to be soon accomplished, was predicted by her shortly before her death. Revolutions—the fall of mighty monarchs, and the shedding of much blood are to signalise that event. The very angels, afflicted by our woes, are to turn aside their heads, and weep for hapless Britain.

But great as is the fame of Mother Shipton, she ranks but second in the list of British prophets. Merlin, the mighty Merlin, stands alone in his high pre-eminence—the first and greatest. As old Drayton sings, in his Poly-olbion: Of Merlin and his skill what region doth not hear? The world shall still be full of Merlin every year. A thousand lingering years his prophecies have run, And scarcely shall have end till time itself be done." Spenser, in his divine poem, has given us a powerful description of this renowned seer— "who had in magic more insight Than ever him before, or after, living wight.


 * For he by words could call out of the sky
 * Both sun and moon, and make them him obey;
 * The land to sea, and sea to mainland dry,
 * And darksome night he eke could turn to day--
 * Huge hosts of men he could, alone, dismay.
 * And hosts of men and meanest things could frame,
 * Whenso him list his enemies to fray,
 * That to this day, for terror of his name,

The fiends do quake, when any him to them does name.