"All that mankind has done, thought, gained or been: it is lying as in magic preservation in the pages of books."
-Thomas Carlyle

by Paul Lytle

I

     With this in hand can I remember all
The battles fought, and at my hip was her
At every one, and never once did fall.

And even now I feel her power stir
In weakened hand, now soaked by years of blood.
You still accept my touch, Excalibur?

But take her back, for 'tis no good to touch
And not to wield, as in those years before,
In battles fought and wars, 'tis not enough!

To only wield her one last time, once more,
Would purge my blood and make me well again,
And sit upon the throne and ride in war —

And one last time to have a war to win,
To rise from bed and once my armies lead,
Unite this island — all the lands within,

And Uther's land shall stand between the seas.
If once, as past against the Cornwall lands,
To see a prize and conquer as the King.

II

     Igraine! Igraine! For you did I once stand,
And when that Cornwall passed I came to you.
But how could I resist? I'm yet a man.

Such beauty I recall and beauty knew
When once you thought that I was truly he
(But had you known would you have then refused?).

But Cornwall's dead and you ne'er more saw me
With pride or love, but you pretended well,
And as my wife for years said you were pleased.

But I am still the King, and well I tell
Through all your lies and fabricated smiles
That my war-battered face did you repel.

When wise old Merlin took young Arthur while
He lay asleep, content in your white hands,
And carried him away, past towns and miles,

You cursed a curse on me you'll not recant,
No matter all the worlds I give to you.
Now you do see a King, but not a man.

III

     Oh! Arthur, son, my true blood son refused.
I never once did come to Ector's keep
To see my own dear boy I never knew.

Oh! Countless nights I heard Igraine there weep
For her last born, now taken far away —
Now Ector's son, Igraine, now his to teach.

I could have taken merely five short days
From all my war and fighting on and forth
To see and teach my boy, and with him stay.

But that was task too tall to be of worth,
And so did I excuse myself from it,
And lost my son even before his birth.

And so, just now, I can at least admit,
As Death's black vultures swarm around my bed,
That even King may make mistakes, and yet

Does pay a million deaths for them instead,
And lives another day and week and then.
Were better I and not good Cornwall dead.

IV

     And Merlin there, I see you've come again.
To take my son this time? Or Cornwall kill?
But no, you now commit more horrid sin,

To take the blade that you told me to wield,
To steal her back and let me die alone,
To, in some lake or rock, forever seal?

'Twas you that's taken all I e'er have owned.
You took Igraine's dear heart and then our son,
And now my sword to shove into a stone!

So what have you since given, not undone?
Not once in all the years that I did rule,
But dead and lonely man that I've become.

But one last word, dark Mage, do not be cruel
To but refuse this King's one last request,
And make me so much more to be the fool.

Do tell me now how Arthur has been blessed,
And of his days, of which you have the Sight.
To let a father die without regret.

V

     Goodbye, dear blade that boasts consuming might,
To rest until my son will touch your hilt,
To take the throne, to make all evil right.

Yes, rest, and 'til that holy day be still.
To Merlin now do I entrust your fate.
(Without her here this room grows dark and chill).

I must be quick, for in me grows the pain,
I have not long before but I am passed.
To all my knights, my lords, and you, Igraine,

My friends, I fear in this I've reached the last.
I loved you all, for this I did as did,
For this alone in all my quests and tasks.

As King for one last time, do as I bid —
Remember me in only that respect,
And in respect at all I've done and said.

I am so weak — Death's sickle I detect
Just but a moment off, with no reprieve.
So one more word, then let me to my bed.

VI

     My son, a heart will fool and poorly lead,
And of my words ignore them all but these —
Do follow what your soul and mind will see.
And Arthur, be a better man than me.