Alone, one afternoon I read
The tales that Ovid used to thread
Of girls and boys and birds and bees
And all their metamorphoses.
But when I found his words too deep
I drifted gently off to sleep -
To sleep, to die, perchance to dream
A dream is all that it may seem,
But dreams are dreams, as love is love
The both of which come from above.
Thus did I find myself upon
The road, I think, to Avalon
For Avalon it must have been
As such a garden ne'er was seen
With fruit and flower of every kind
And not an one was yet maligned.
Methought this could be paradise,
But paradise -
I feared the price.
The price
The price -
The cost to stay
Perhaps it's best to stay away
For there I was somewhere between
The garden and where'er I'd been -
Where'er I'd been I do not know
I think it had been pleasant though
And thus I wavered for a while
On how in this there could be guile
With some distrust I looked around
For any signs that could be found.
The name engraved and glistening
That bid me there to enter in
Was raised above the entrance way
According to the old cliche:
The Isle Pomorum welcomes you
It said, but with an evil hue
At least, it so appeared to me
Inspiring the urge to flee.
But looking 'round I could not find
A reason for my state of mind,
For though the sign had made me quake
I longed that i might still partake
Partake -
It seemed a hopeless dream
A dream, to die, to sleep, to seem
But yet abounding did I see
No knowledge grown on bough or tree
Nor good or evil fruit was there
To tempt or otherwise ensnare
Not even was a flaming sword
Aglow campaigning for its ward
And as I sought that one last thing
I saw the most appealing spring
Which glistened as it flowed along
And was to me a siren's song.
But still I wavered at the gate
And shrunk to enter the estate
When all at once, like Socrates,
I heard a voice speak on the breeze
Or in my mind, I cannot tell,
But to my heart its message fell
And from that place I felt to run
To run -
It glistened in the sun.
I walked along the garden's edge
Surrounded by a little hedge
But kept my eyes upon the spring
To listen to the sirens sing.
Approaching with delight I saw
The hedge upon the spring did draw
And as I reached this blessed spot
All prior warnings I forgot.
Enthralled by such a priceless scene
A place no man had ever been
My gaze just then did fall upon
The loveliest flower in Avalon:
A lily at the river's side
With starry gaze my gaze espied
And there I stood from hour to hour
In worship of that sacred flower
Until at last I heard her call
To me as eve began to fall.
Then to my horror and dismay
That one last thing came out to pray
To prey upon my holy shrine
'round which he did himself entwine
'ere I could my beloved save
The fiend had sent her to the grave
And from my grasp he did escape
Delighting in his fruitful rape.
I knelt where she, now broken, lay
And raised her as my lips did say:
Talitha, please, I beg, cumi -
Then from my dream I was set free.
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Probably need some revision, but let me know what you think first, if it makes sense, etc. This is a Chaucerian trope.
