Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/128

 And sweep and song of winds, and fruitful light Of sunbeams, and the far faint breath of night, And waves and woods at morning: and in all, Soft as at noon the slow sea's rise and fall, He hears in spirit a song that none but he Hears from the mystic mouth of Nimue Shed like a consecration; and his heart, Hearing, is made for love's sake as a part Of that far singing, and the life thereof Part of that life that feeds the world with love: Yea, heart in heart is molten, hers and his, Into the world's heart and the soul that is Beyond or sense or vision; and their breath Stirs the soft springs of deathless life and death, Death that bears life, and change that brings forth seed Of life to death and death to life indeed, As blood recircling through the unsounded veins Of earth and heaven with all their joys and pains. Ah, that when love shall laugh no more nor weep We too, we too might hear that song and sleep!' 'Yea,' said Iseult, 'some joy it were to be Lost in the sun's light and the all-girdling sea, Mixed with the winds and woodlands, and to bear Part in the large life of the quickening air, And the sweet earth's, our mother: yet to pass More fleet than mirrored faces from the glass Out of all pain and all delight, so far That love should seem but as the furthest star Sunk deep in trembling heaven, scarce seen or known,