Poem

Merlin Met Morgan-Le-Fay

By Florence Converse

The King commanded two Knights and two ladies to take the child, bound in a cloth of gold, and that ye deliver him to what poor man ye meet at the postern gate of the castle. So the child was delivered unto Merlin. . . .

And the third sister Morgan-le-Fay was put to school in a nunnery, and there she learned so much that she was a great clerk of necromancy.

SIR THOMAS MALORY: Le Morte D’Arthur.

MERLIN met Morgan-le-Fay
In a Cornish lane;
Witch-words on her young lips,
And a blackberry stain.
In her hair a tangled spray
Of wild blackberry thorn.
‘Merlin, Merlin, tell me,
Is the baby born?’
Merlin lifted up the veil,
Crooned a sleepy charm,
Cuddled Arthur, King of Britain,
Close in his arm.
Young maid Morgan-le-Fay
Stood tiptoe to see:
‘Now that you’ve come, brother,
Who ’ll think of me?
‘Britain’s hope and Britain’s glory,
You may be — one day.
As for me, I’d rather be
Morgan-le-Fay.
‘ When I am put to school
In a nunnery,
I shall learn to weave spells
And spin sorcery.
‘ I shall be a great clerk,
Wise in necromancy.
I shall plague the King of Britain,
If I take a fancy.
‘ When I’m a damosel,
I ’ll do as I dare.
I shall be a proper witch;
’Ware, brother, ’ware!’
Merlin wagged his awful beard,
Smiling through the crinkles;
Bent his shaggy brows above
Eyes full of twinkles.
‘Fie, fie, Morgan-le-Fay,
Bow your naughty knee;
Kiss your liege, kiss your brother;
Swear fealty.
‘Though you ’re a proper witch,
I ’m a proper wizard;
I know the magic books
From A to Izzard.
‘Fools put their trust in magic,
Black, white, or gray,
I cannot save the kingdom,
You cannot betray.
‘Arthur and his Table Round
Will dree their own weird.’ —
Morgan-le-Fay stamped her foot
And tweaked Merlin’s beard.
‘Why are kings? Why are witches?
Why am I, I?
Merlin, let me bite the baby,
Let me make him cry.’