April Challenge: "The Ballad of Merlin's Mount"
Title: "The Ballad of Merlin's Mount
Author: After the Rain
Rating: G
Prompt: "The Ballad of Merlin's Mount," by Celestina Warbeck
Author's Notes: I'm sorry this took so long. It pretty much confirms that I'm lousy at writing poetry, but as it's supposed to be written by the same woman responsible for "Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love," I shall try not to be too embarrassed at posting it.
... The haunting and enigmatic “Ballad of Merlin’s Mount,” though not as well known as the string of jazz-pop hits that made Celestina’s reputation in the late 1960s, ranks among discerning listeners as one of her finest recordings. When it was recorded in 1982, Madame Warbeck was experiencing something of a slump in her career; she had recently been the target of ugly rumors concerning her well-publicized divorce from Ludo Bagman and her supposed Death Eater connections. (There was, of course, absolutely no substance to these scurrilous allegations; many of them verged on the absurd, such as the suggestion that Celestina received her first record deal through the influence of the notorious Apollyon Rosier.) In any case, out of the grit of the postwar era emerged this pearl of a folk song, which, as Shakespeare might have said, “dallies with the innocence of love / Like the old age.”
O gather round my children fair,
And hear the tale I’ll tell
Of Merlin, the greatest wizard that lived,
And the maid he loved too well.
Now Merlin said to the king one day,
As the leaves began to turn,
“I have a journey soon to go,
Wait not for my return.”
“Stay with me, Merlin, for I am young,
And you are wise and pure.”
“My crafts boot nothing, my liege,” he said,
“I may not long endure.
“For I shall die a shameful death,
Set in the earth alive.
And ye shall die a worshipful death,
With your last knight at your side.”
“Since you know the manner of your death,
You must know the remedy.”
But Merlin shook his old white head,
“Nay,” he said, “it will not be.”
There was a damsel called Nenyve,
Bright as a candle burning,
And Merlin loved her with an old man’s love,
And she loved only learning.
“I fear old Merlin,” she said to herself,
“For he’s the son of the devil,
And ever he seeks to lie with me,
Jesu preserve me from evil!”
But she made good cheer till she learned from him
All that she desired,
And he followed her wherever she rode,
As the moth flies to the fire.
They traveled together the autumn long,
Through lightning and through thunder,
And they crossed the seas and crossed them again,
And he showed her many a wonder.
And they traveled together the winter long,
The days were short and dreary;
And ever he sought to have her love,
And she grew passing weary.
In the spring they came unto a place
Where a wonder lay ‘neath a stone.
She charmed him sweetly with her voice
And trapped him there alone.
The sky grew black, the wind blew cold,
The hail slashed at her clothes;
The noonday sun was blotted out
And the green buds froze.
She stood in the rain beside his tomb,
Beneath the blasted tree.
“Alas, I’ve killed great Merlin,” she cried,
“The man who best loved me.”
But he might not rise for all his craft,
Nor yet for all her tears,
And the place is still called Merlin’s Mount,
After a thousand years.
She left him there and forth she rode,
All night until the morning;
The birds on the green boughs sang once more,
And the new day was a-dawning.
Author: After the Rain
Rating: G
Prompt: "The Ballad of Merlin's Mount," by Celestina Warbeck
Author's Notes: I'm sorry this took so long. It pretty much confirms that I'm lousy at writing poetry, but as it's supposed to be written by the same woman responsible for "Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love," I shall try not to be too embarrassed at posting it.
... The haunting and enigmatic “Ballad of Merlin’s Mount,” though not as well known as the string of jazz-pop hits that made Celestina’s reputation in the late 1960s, ranks among discerning listeners as one of her finest recordings. When it was recorded in 1982, Madame Warbeck was experiencing something of a slump in her career; she had recently been the target of ugly rumors concerning her well-publicized divorce from Ludo Bagman and her supposed Death Eater connections. (There was, of course, absolutely no substance to these scurrilous allegations; many of them verged on the absurd, such as the suggestion that Celestina received her first record deal through the influence of the notorious Apollyon Rosier.) In any case, out of the grit of the postwar era emerged this pearl of a folk song, which, as Shakespeare might have said, “dallies with the innocence of love / Like the old age.”
O gather round my children fair,
And hear the tale I’ll tell
Of Merlin, the greatest wizard that lived,
And the maid he loved too well.
Now Merlin said to the king one day,
As the leaves began to turn,
“I have a journey soon to go,
Wait not for my return.”
“Stay with me, Merlin, for I am young,
And you are wise and pure.”
“My crafts boot nothing, my liege,” he said,
“I may not long endure.
“For I shall die a shameful death,
Set in the earth alive.
And ye shall die a worshipful death,
With your last knight at your side.”
“Since you know the manner of your death,
You must know the remedy.”
But Merlin shook his old white head,
“Nay,” he said, “it will not be.”
There was a damsel called Nenyve,
Bright as a candle burning,
And Merlin loved her with an old man’s love,
And she loved only learning.
“I fear old Merlin,” she said to herself,
“For he’s the son of the devil,
And ever he seeks to lie with me,
Jesu preserve me from evil!”
But she made good cheer till she learned from him
All that she desired,
And he followed her wherever she rode,
As the moth flies to the fire.
They traveled together the autumn long,
Through lightning and through thunder,
And they crossed the seas and crossed them again,
And he showed her many a wonder.
And they traveled together the winter long,
The days were short and dreary;
And ever he sought to have her love,
And she grew passing weary.
In the spring they came unto a place
Where a wonder lay ‘neath a stone.
She charmed him sweetly with her voice
And trapped him there alone.
The sky grew black, the wind blew cold,
The hail slashed at her clothes;
The noonday sun was blotted out
And the green buds froze.
She stood in the rain beside his tomb,
Beneath the blasted tree.
“Alas, I’ve killed great Merlin,” she cried,
“The man who best loved me.”
But he might not rise for all his craft,
Nor yet for all her tears,
And the place is still called Merlin’s Mount,
After a thousand years.
She left him there and forth she rode,
All night until the morning;
The birds on the green boughs sang once more,
And the new day was a-dawning.