Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/115



time, O Love, a little light, A little hour for ease before the night. Sweet Love, that art so bitter; foolish Love, Whom wise men know for wiser, and thy dove More subtle than the serpent; for thy sake These pray thee for a little beam to break, A little grace to help them, lest men think Thy servants have but hours like tears to drink. O Love, a little comfort, lest they fear To serve as these have served thee who stand here. For these are thine, thy servants these, that stand Here nigh the limit of the wild north land, At margin of the grey great eastern sea, Dense-islanded with peaks and reefs, that see No life but of the fleet wings fair and free Which cleave the mist and sunlight all day long With sleepless flight and cries more glad than song. Strange ways of life have led them hither, here To win fleet respite from desire and fear,