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TENNYSON. I am Merlin And I am dying, I am Merlin who followed the gleam; Tennyson's Merlin and gleam.
O TENNYSON! Of poets loved the best;
A rosebud, tear-stained, bring I for thy breast
(The full-moon, sailing slowly tow'rds the West This Autumn morn-after the wind and rain)
Or rugged verse, in all its poverty
Feebly to tell how dear thy poetry
Shall live—for Prophets' voice and vision thine “Thro' all the ages” till suns no more shall shine.
JOHN FULLERTON. -For The Magazine of Poetry.
Merlin has gone, has gone; and through the land,
The melancholy message wings its way
To careless-ordered garden by the bay
Merlin has gone; Merlin the wizard, who found
In the past's glimmering tide and hailed him king
Arthur, great Uther's son, and so did sing The mystic glories of the Table Round That ever its name will live so long as song shall
The brightest star in Britain's sky of fame
Has passed beyond the range of mortal sight; But on the hearts of men a deathless name
Is graved in characters of golden light.
Merlin has gone; Merlin who followed the gleam
And made us follow it, the flying tale
Of the last tournament, the Holy Grail, And Arthur's passing till the enchantress dream Dwells with us still awake, no visionary theme.