Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.

The Gate of Camelot

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)

SO, when their feet were planted on the plain

That broadened toward the base of Camelot,

Far off they saw the silver-misty morn

Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount,

That rose between the forest and the field.

At times the summit of the high city flashed;

At times the spires and turrets halfway down

Pricked through the mist: at times the great gate shone

Only, that opened on the field below:

Anon, the whole fair city had disappeared.

Then those who went with Gareth were amazed,

One crying, “Let us go no further, lord.

Here is a city of Enchanters, built

By fairy Kings.” The second echoed him,

“Lord, we have heard from our wise men at home

To Northward, that this King is not the King,

But only changeling out of Fairyland,

Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery

And Merlin’s glamour.” Then the first again,

“Lord, there is no such city anywhere,

But all a vision.”

Gareth answered them

With laughter, swearing he had glamour enow

In his own blood, his princedom, youth and hopes,

To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian sea;

So pushed them all unwilling toward the gate.

And there was no gate like it under heaven.

For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined

And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave,

The Lady of the Lake stood: all her dress

Wept from her sides as water flowing away;

But like the cross her great and goodly arms

Stretched under all the cornice, and upheld:

And drops of water fell from either hand;

And down from one a sword was hung, from one

A censer, either worn with wind and storm;

And o’er her breast floated the sacred fish;

And in the space to left of her and right,

Were Arthur’s wars in weird devices done,

New things and old co-twisted, as if Time

Were nothing, so inveterately, that men

Were giddy gazing there; and over all

High on the top were those three Queens, the friends

Of Arthur, who should help him at his need.

Then those with Gareth for so long a space

Stared at the figures, that at last it seemed

The dragon-boughts and elvish emblemings

Began to move, seethe, twine and curl: they called

To Gareth, “Lord, the gateway is alive.”

And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes

So long, that even to him they seemed to move.

Out of the city a blast of music pealed.

Back from the gate started the three, to whom

From out thereunder came an ancient man,

Long-bearded, saying, “Who be ye, my sons?”

Then Gareth, “We be tillers of the soil,

Who leaving share in furrow, come to see

The glories of our King: but these, my men

(Your city moved so weirdly in the mist),

Doubt if the King be King at all, or come

From fairyland; and whether this be built

By magic, and by fairy Kings and Queens;

Or whether there be any city at all,

Or all a vision: and this music now

Hath scared them both; but tell thou these the truth.”

Then that old Seer made answer playing on him

And saying, “Son, I have seen the good ship sail

Keel upward and mast downward in the heavens,

And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air:

And here is truth; but an it please thee not,

Take thou the truth as thou hast told it me.

For truly, as thou sayest, a Fairy King

And Fairy Queens have built the city, son;

They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft

Toward the sunrise, each with harp in hand,

And built it to the music of their harps.

And as thou sayest it is enchanted, son,

For there is nothing in it as it seems,

Saving the King; though some there be that hold

The King a shadow, and the city real:

Yet take thou heed of him, for so thou pass

Beneath this archway, then wilt thou become

A thrall to his enchantments, for the King

Will bind thee by such vows, as is a shame

A man should not be bound by, yet the which

No man can keep; but, so thou dread to swear,

Pass not beneath this gateway, but abide

Without, among the cattle of the field,

For, an ye heard a music, like enow

They are building still, seeing the city is built

To music, therefore never built at all,

And therefore built forever.”

Gareth spake

Angered, “Old Master, reverence thine own beard

That looks as white as utter truth, and seems

Well-nigh as long as thou art statured tall!

Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been

To thee fair-spoken?”

But the Seer replied,

“Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards?

‘Confusion, and illusion, and relation,

Elusion, and occasion, and evasion’?

I mock thee not but as thou mockest me,

And all that see thee, for thou art not who

Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou art.

And now thou goest up to mock the King,

Who cannot brook the shadow of any lie.”

Unmockingly the mocker ending here

Turned to the right, and past along the plain;

Whom Gareth looking after, said, “My men,

Our one white lie sits like a little ghost

Here on the threshold of our enterprise.

Let love be blamed for it, not she, nor I:

Well, we will make amends.”

With all good cheer

He spake and laughed, then entered with his twain

Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces

And stately, rich in emblem and the work

Of ancient kings who did their days in stone;

Which Merlin’s hand, the Mage at Arthur’s court,

Knowing all arts, had touched, and everywhere

At Arthur’s ordinance, tipt with lessening peak

And pinnacle, and had made it spire to heaven.

And ever and anon a knight would pass

Outward, or inward to the hall: his arms

Clashed; and the sound was good to Gareth’s ear.

And out of bower and casement shyly glanced

Eyes of pure women, wholesome stars of love;

And all about a healthful people stept

As in the presence of a gracious king.