Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/134

 So rose and stirred and kindled in her thought Fierce barren fluctuant fires that lit not aught, But scorched her soul with yearning keen as hate And dreams that left her wrath disconsolate. When change came first on that first heaven where all Life's hours were flowers that dawn's light hand let fall, The sun that smote her dewy cloud of days Wrought from its showery folds his rainbow's rays, For love the red, for hope the gentle green, But yellow jealousy glared pale between. Ere yet the sky grew heavier, and her head Bent flowerwise, chill with change and fancies fled, She saw but love arch all her heaven across with red, A burning bloom that seemed to breathe and beat And waver only as flame with rapturous heat Wavers; and all the world therewith smelt sweet, As incense kindling from the rose-red flame: And when that full flush waned, and love became Scarce fainter, though his fading horoscope From certitude of sight receded, hope Held yet her April-coloured light aloft As though to lure back love, a lamp sublime and soft. But soon that light paled as a leaf grows pale And fluttered leaf-like in the gathering gale And melted even as dew-flakes, whose brief sheen The sun that gave despoils of glittering green; Till harder shone 'twixt hope and love grown cold A sallow light like withering autumn's gold, The pale strong flame of jealous thought, that glows More deep than hope's green bloom or love's enkindled rose: