Then answered Merlin: “Let me tell my tale In my own way, and hearken till the close. All these things happen not as we desire, But as the ages need. Such men as he Come not without great travail and sore pain; They are the ripe fruit of the centuries, Who nourish noble thoughts and noble deeds, Give health and vigour to the sickly times, And stir the gross blood of the sleepy world; And when they pass away, their names, endued With life, still head the van of truth and right: So shall the name and spirit of the King, Who ruled in Camelot the Table Round, Guide Britain into ever-growing fame; And all her Kings that reign shall reign in him, The golden type of kingly chivalry. And those three Queens thou sawest, three fair Queens, So sweet and womanly, who, in the barge, Bore, tenderly, away the wounded King, Shall reign in Britain in the after-time,-- As, in the old time, Carismandua And brave Bonduca whom the Romans feared Held a firm sceptre in a gentle hand. Of best and purest Queenhood, they, the type, As Arthur is the type of Blameless Kings. And as by three sweet names of holy kin They shall be known, so shall they also shew A triple sisterhood beneath one crown-- Britain, and Albyn, and green Innisfail. Now, when the last of three Queens has slept For many years, there shall arise a Fourth-- Fair, good and wise, and loved by all the land Of Britain, and by many lands on every sea. And in her days the world shall have much changed From that which now we live in. Mysteries, Save unto me in vision, now unknown, Shall then be clear as day. The earth and air Shall yield strange secrets for the use of men,-- The planets, in their courses, shall draw near, And men shall see their marvels, as the flowers That grace the meads of Summer,--time and space Shall know new laws, and history shall walk Abreast with fact o’er all the peopled world:-- For words shall flash like light from shore to shore, And light itself shall chronicle men’s deeds. Great ships shall plough the ocean without sail, And steedless chariots shoot with arrowy speed O’er hill and dale and river, and beneath The solid floor we tread,--the silent rocks Shall tell the story of the infant world,-- The falling leaf shall shew the cause of things Sages have sought in vain--and the whole vast Of sight and sound shall be to men a school Where they may learn strange lessons; and great truths That long have slept in the deep heart of God Shall waken and come forth and dwell with men, As in the elder days the tented lord Of countless herds was taught by angel-guests. And this fair land of Britain then shall be Engrailed with stately cities,--and by streams Where now the greedy wolf roams shall be heard The multitudinous voice of Industry,--