Enchanted

Enchanted

(a pastiche: Tennyson looks at Claude)

Beyond the dark green pasture, bank, and tree
The Enchanted Castle rises from the shore
Where the grey headland opens bay to sea,
And the low sunlight glimmers evermore.

Forever sunset on that castle gleams,
Adding its gilding to the golden stone
Until each turret, block and bastion seems
For elvish princes, palace, hall and throne.

Will you approach and knock on that great door?
The magic folk will welcome you as guest;
But deeper magic beckons to the shore,
To the blue land beyond the shining west.

Here waits the pinnace, here the silent crew
Will row you past the wavelets of the bay,
Past the grey rock and golden pile, till you
On the broad sea of sunset take your way.

Glance back one moment: from the castle there
The golden lords and ladies wave farewell.
Your bark sails on; enchanted is this air,
Enchanted too the ocean’s deep blue swell.

There is a country far beyond the sun,
The Land Below the Wave, the Farthest West:
There, there if ever, when your journey’s done,
The last enchantment waits you, and the best.