Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/144

 And wist not more of them than waters know What wind with next day's change of tide shall blow. Dark roll the deepening days whose waves divide Unseasonably, with storm-struck change of tide, Tristram from Iseult: nor may sorrow say If better wind shall blow than yesterday With next day risen or any day to come. For ere the songs of summer's death fell dumb, And autumn bade the imperial moorlands change Their purples, and the bracken's bloom grow strange As hope's green blossom touched with time's harsh rust, Was all their joy of life shaken to dust, And all its fire made ashes: by the strand Where late they strayed and communed hand from hand For the last time fell separate, eyes of eyes Took for the last time leave, and saw the skies Dark with their deep division. The last time— The last that ever love's rekindling rhyme Should keep for them life's days and nights in tune With refluence of the morning and the moon Alternative in music, and make one The secrets of the stardawn and the sun For these twain souls ere darkness held them fast; The last before the labour marked for last And toil of utmost knighthood, till the wage Of rest might crown his crowning pilgrimage Whereon forth faring must he take farewell, With spear for staff and sword for scallop-shell