Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/117

 Riding beneath these whitethorns overhead, There fell a flower into her girdlestead Which laughing she shook out, and smiling said— "Lo, what large leave the wind hath given this stray, To lie more near my heart than till this day Aught ever since my mother lulled me lay Or even my lord came ever;" whence I wot We are all thy scorn, a race regarded not Nor held as worth communion of thine own, Except in her be found some fault alone To blemish our alliance.' Then replied Tristram, 'Nor blame nor scorn may touch my bride, Albeit unknown of love she live, and be Worth a man worthier than her love thought me. Faith only, faith withheld me, faith forbade The blameless grace wherewith love's grace makes glad All lives linked else in wedlock; not that less I loved the sweet light of her loveliness, But that my love toward faith was more: and thou, Albeit thine heart be keen against me now, Couldst thou behold my very lady, then No more of thee than of all other men Should this my faith be held a faithless fault.' And ere that day their hawking came to halt, Being sore of him entreated for a sign, He sware to bring his brother Ganhardine To sight of that strange Iseult: and thereon Forth soon for Cornwall are these brethren gone,