Works of Edwin Arlington Robinson

by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Upon my grave, and be the grieving image 1490

  Of lean remorse, and suffer miserably;

  And often, all day long, you’d only shake

  Your celebrated head and all it holds,

  Or beat it with your fist the while you groaned

  Aloud and went on saying to yourself: 1495

  ‘Never should I have killed her, or believed

  She was a bee that buzzed herself to death,

  First having made me crazy, had there been

  Judicious distance and wise absences

  To keep the two of us inquisitive.’” — 1500

  “I fear you bow your unoffending head

  Before a load that should be mine,” said he;

  “If so, you led me on by listening.

  You should have shrieked and jumped, and then fled yelling;

  That’s the best way when a man talks too long. 1505

  God’s pity on me if I love your feet

  More now than I could ever love the face

  Of any one of all those Vivians

  You summoned out of nothing on the night

  When I saw towers. I’ll wander and amend.” — 1510

  At that she flung the noose of her soft arms

  Around his neck and kissed him instantly:

  “You are the wisest man that ever was,

  And I’ve a prayer to make: May all you say

  To Vivian be a part of what you knew 1515

  Before the curse of her unquiet head

  Was on your shoulder, as you have it now,

  To punish you for knowing beyond knowledge.

  You are the only one who sees enough

  To make me see how far away I am 1520

  From all that I have seen and have not been;

  You are the only thing there is alive

  Between me as I am and as I was

  When Merlin was a dream. You are to listen

  When I say now to you that I’m alone. 1525

  Like you, I saw too much; and unlike you

  I made no kingdom out of what I saw —

  Or none save this one here that you must rule,

  Believing you are ruled. I see too far

  To rule myself. Time’s way with you and me 1530

  Is our way, in that we are out of Time

  And out of tune with Time. We have this place,

  And you must hold us in it or we die.

  Look at me now and say if what I say

  Be folly or not; for my unquiet head 1535

  Is no conceit of mine. I had it first

  When I was born; and I shall have it with me

  Till my unquiet soul is on its way

  To be, I hope, where souls are quieter.

  So let the first and last activity 1540

  Of what you say so often is your love

  Be always to remember that our lyres

  Are not strung for Today. On you it falls

  To keep them in accord here with each other,

  For you have wisdom, I have only sight 1545

  For distant things — and you. And you are Merlin.

  Poor wizard! Vivian is your punishment

  For making kings of men who are not kings;

  And you are mine, by the same reasoning,

  For living out of Time and out of tune 1550

  With anything but you. No other man

  Could make me say so much of what I know

  As I say now to you. And you are Merlin!”

  She looked up at him till his way was lost

  Again in the familiar wilderness 1555

  Of night that love made for him in her eyes,

  And there he wandered as he said he would;

  He wandered also in his prison-yard,

  And, when he found her coming after him,

  Beguiled her with her own admonishing 1560

  And frowned upon her with a fierce reproof

  That many a time in the old world outside

  Had set the mark of silence on strong men —

  Whereat she laughed, not always wholly sure,

  Nor always wholly glad, that he who played 1565

  So lightly was the wizard of her dreams:

  “No matter — if only Merlin keep the world

  Away,” she thought. “Our lyres have many strings,

  But he must know them all, for he is Merlin.”

  And so far years, till ten of them were gone, — 1570

  Ten years, ten seasons, or ten flying ages —

  Fate made Broceliande a paradise,

  By none invaded, until Dagonet,

  Like a discordant, awkward bird of doom,

  Flew in with Arthur’s message. For the King, 1575

  In sorrow cleaving to simplicity,

  And having in his love a quick remembrance

  Of Merlin’s old affection for the fellow,

  Had for this vain, reluctant enterprise

  Appointed him — the knight who made men laugh, 1580

  And was a fool because he played the fool.

  “The King believes today, as in his boyhood,

  That I am Fate; and I can do no more

  Than show again what in his heart he knows,”

  Said Merlin to himself and Vivian: 1585

  “This time I go because I made him King,

  Thereby to be a mirror for the world;

  This time I go, but never after this,

  For I can be no more than what I was,

  And I can do no more than I have done.” 1590

  He took her slowly in his arms and felt

  Her body throbbing like a bird against him:

  “This time I go; I go because I must.”

  And in the morning, when he rode away

  With Dagonet and Blaise through the same gate 1595

  That once had clanged as if to shut for ever,

  She had not even asked him not to go;

  For it was then that in his lonely gaze

  Of helpless love and sad authority

  She found the gleam of his imprisoned power 1600

  That Fate withheld; and, pitying herself,

  She pitied the fond Merlin she had changed,

  And saw the Merlin who had changed the world.

  Merlin VI

  “NO kings are coming on their hands and knees,

  Nor yet on horses or in chariots, 1605

  To carry me away from you again,”

  Said Merlin, winding around Vivian’s ear

  A shred of her black hair. “King Arthur knows

  That I have done with kings, and that I speak

  No more their crafty language. Once I knew it, 1610

  But now the only language I have left

  Is one that I must never let you hear

  Too long, or know too well. When towering deeds

  Once done shall only out of dust and words

  Be done again, the doer may then be wary 1615

  Lest in the complement of his new fabric

  There be more words than dust.”

  “Why tell me so?”

  Said Vivian; and a singular thin laugh

  Came after her thin question. “Do you think 1620

  That I’m so far away from history

  That I require, even of the wisest man

  Who ever said the wrong thing to a woman,

  So large a light on what I know already —

  When all I seek is here before me now 1625

  In your new eyes that you have brought for me

  From Camelot? The eyes you took away

  Were sad and old; and I could see in them

  A Merlin who remembered all the kings

  He ever saw, and wished himself, almost, 1630

  Away from Vivian, to make other kings,

  And shake the world again in the old manner.

  I saw myself no bigger than a beetle

  For several days, and wondered if your love

  Were large enough to make me any larger 1635

 
When you came back. Am I a beetle still?”

  She stood up on her toes and held her cheek

  For some time against his, and let him go.

  “I fear the time has come for me to wander

  A little in my prison-yard,” he said. — 1640

  “No, tell me everything that you have seen

  And heard and done, and seen done, and heard done,

  Since you deserted me. And tell me first

  What the King thinks of me.”— “The King believes

  That you are almost what you are,” he told her: 1645

  “The beauty of all ages that are vanished,

  Reborn to be the wonder of one woman.” —

  “I knew he hated me. What else of him?” —

  “And all that I have seen and heard and done,

  Which is not much, would make a weary telling; 1650

  And all your part of it would be to sleep,

  And dream that Merlin had his beard again.” —

  “Then tell me more about your good fool knight,

  Sir Dagonet. If Blaise were not half-mad

  Already with his pondering on the name 1655

  And shield of his unshielding nameless father,

  I’d make a fool of him. I’d call him Ajax;

  I’d have him shake his fist at thunder-storms,

  And dance a jig as long as there was lightning,

  And so till I forgot myself entirely. 1660

  Not even your love may do so much as that.” —

  “Thunder and lightning are no friends of mine,”

  Said Merlin slowly, “more than they are yours;

  They bring me nearer to the elements

  From which I came than I care now to be.” — 1665

  “You owe a service to those elements;

  For by their service you outwitted age

  And made the world a kingdom of your will.” —

  He touched her hand, smiling: “Whatever service

  Of mine awaits them will not be forgotten,” 1670

  He said; and the smile faded on his face. —

  “Now of all graceless and ungrateful wizards—”

  But there she ceased, for she found in his eyes

  The first of a new fear. “The wrong word rules

  Today,” she said; “and we’ll have no more journeys.” 1675

  Although he wandered rather more than ever

  Since he had come again to Brittany

  From Camelot, Merlin found eternally

  Before him a new loneliness that made

  Of garden, park, and woodland, all alike, 1680

  A desolation and a changelessness

  Defying reason, without Vivian

  Beside him, like a child with a black head,

  Or moving on before him, or somewhere

  So near him that, although he saw it not 1685

  With eyes, he felt the picture of her beauty

  And shivered at the nearness of her being.

  Without her now there was no past or future,

  And a vague, soul-consuming premonition

  He found the only tenant of the present; 1690

  He wondered, when she was away from him,

  If his avenging injured intellect

  Might shine with Arthur’s kingdom a twin mirror,

  Fate’s plaything, for new ages without eyes

  To see therein themselves and their declension. 1695

  Love made his hours a martyrdom without her;

  The world was like an empty house without her,

  Where Merlin was a prisoner of love

  Confined within himself by too much freedom,

  Repeating an unending exploration 1700

  Of many solitary silent rooms,

  And only in a way remembering now

  That once their very solitude and silence

  Had by the magic of expectancy

  Made sure what now he doubted — though his doubts, 1705

  Day after day, were founded on a shadow.

  For now to Merlin, in his paradise,

  Had come an unseen angel with a sword

  Unseen, the touch of which was a long fear

  For longer sorrow that had never come, 1710

  Yet might if he compelled it. He discovered,

  One golden day in autumn as he wandered,

  That he had made the radiance of two years

  A misty twilight when he might as well

  Have had no mist between him and the sun, 1715

  The sun being Vivian. On his coming then

  To find her all in green against a wall

  Of green and yellow leaves, and crumbling bread

  For birds around the fountain while she sang

  And the birds ate the bread, he told himself 1720

  That everything today was as it was

  At first, and for a minute he believed it.

  “I’d have you always all in green out here,”

  He said, “if I had much to say about it.” —

  She clapped her crumbs away and laughed at him: 1725

  “I’ve covered up my bones with every color

  That I can carry on them without screaming,

  And you have liked them all — or made me think so.” —

  “I must have liked them if you thought I did,”

  He answered, sighing; “but the sight of you 1730

  Today as on the day I saw you first,

  All green, all wonderful” … He tore a leaf

  To pieces with a melancholy care

  That made her smile.— “Why pause at ‘wonderful’?

  You’ve hardly been yourself since you came back 1735

  From Camelot, where that unpleasant King

  Said things that you have never said to me.” —

  He looked upon her with a worn reproach:

  “The King said nothing that I keep from you.” —

  “What is it then?” she asked, imploringly; 1740

  “You man of moods and miracles, what is it?” —

  He shook his head and tore another leaf:

  “There is no need of asking what it is;

  Whatever you or I may choose to name it,

  The name of it is Fate, who played with me 1745

  And gave me eyes to read of the unwritten

  More lines than I have read. I see no more

  Today than yesterday, but I remember.

  My ways are not the ways of other men;

  My memories go forward. It was you 1750

  Who said that we were not in tune with Time;

  It was not I who said it.”— “But you knew it;

  What matter then who said it?”— “It was you

  Who said that Merlin was your punishment

  For being in tune with him and not with Time — 1755

  With Time or with the world; and it was you

  Who said you were alone, even here with Merlin;

  It was not I who said it. It is I

  Who tell you now my inmost thoughts.” He laughed

  As if at hidden pain around his heart, 1760

  But there was not much laughing in his eyes.

  They walked, and for a season they were silent:

  “I shall know what you mean by that,” she said,

  “When you have told me. Here’s an oak you like,

  And here’s a place that fits me wondrous well 1765

  To sit in. You sit there. I’ve seen you there

  Before; and I have spoiled your noble thoughts

  By walking all my fingers up and down

  Your countenance, as if they were the feet

  Of a small animal with no great claws. 1770

  Tell me a story now about the world,

  And the men in it, what they do in it,

  And why it is they do it all so badly.” —

  “I’ve told you every story that I know,

  Almost,” he said.— “O, don’t begin like that.” — 1775

  �
��Well, once upon a time there was a King.” —

  “That has a more commendable address;

  Go on, and tell me all about the King;

  I’ll bet the King had warts or carbuncles,

  Or something wrong in his divine insides, 1780

  To make him wish that Adam had died young.”

  Merlin observed her slowly with a frown

  Of saddened wonder. She laughed rather lightly,

  And at his heart he felt again the sword

  Whose touch was a long fear for longer sorrow. 1785

  “Well, once upon a time there was a king,”

  He said again, but now in a dry voice

  That wavered and betrayed a venturing.

  He paused, and would have hesitated longer,

  But something in him that was not himself 1790

  Compelled an utterance that his tongue obeyed,

  As an unwilling child obeys a father

  Who might be richer for obedience

  If he obeyed the child: “There was a king

  Who would have made his reign a monument 1795

  For kings and peoples of the waiting ages

  To reverence and remember, and to this end

  He coveted and won, with no ado

  To make a story of, a neighbor queen

  Who limed him with her smile and had of him, 1800

  In token of their sin, what he found soon

  To be a sort of mongrel son and nephew —

  And a most precious reptile in addition —

  To ornament his court and carry arms,

  And latterly to be the darker half 1805

  Of ruin. Also the king, who made of love

  More than he made of life and death together,

  Forgot the world and his example in it

  For yet another woman — one of many —

  And this one he made Queen, albeit he knew 1810

  That her unsworn allegiance to the knight

  That he had loved the best of all his order

  Must one day bring along the coming end

  Of love and honor and of everything;

  And with a kingdom builded on two pits 1815

  Of living sin, — so founded by the will

  Of one wise counsellor who loved the king,

  And loved the world and therefore made him king

  To be a mirror for it, — the king reigned well

  For certain years, awaiting a sure doom; 1820

  For certain years he waved across the world

  A royal banner with a Dragon on it;

  And men of every land fell worshipping

  The Dragon as it were the living God,

  And not the living sin.” 1825

  She rose at that,

  And after a calm yawn, she looked at Merlin: