Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/154

 Where evening's gates as fair as morning's ope, Whose name was memory, but whose flame was hope. For all the tides of thought that rose and sank Felt its fair strength wherefrom strong sorrow shrank A mightier trust than time could change or cloy, More strong than sorrow, more secure than joy. So came he, nor content nor all unblest, Back to the grey old land of Merlin's rest. But ere six paces forth on shore he trod Before him stood a knight with feet unshod, And kneeling called upon him, as on God Might sick men call for pity, praying aloud With hands held up and head made bare and bowed; 'Tristram, for God's love and thine own dear fame, I Tristram that am one with thee in name And one in heart with all that praise thee—I, Most woful man of all that may not die For heartbreak and the heavier scourge of shame, By all thy glory done our woful name Beseech thee, called of all men gentlest knight, Be now not slow to do my sorrows right. I charge thee for thy fame's sake through this land, I pray thee by thine own wife's fair white hand, Have pity of me whose love is borne away By one that makes of poor men's lives his prey, A felon masked with knighthood: at his side Seven brethren hath he night or day to ride With seven knights more that wait on all his will: And here at hand, ere yet one day fulfil Its flight through light and darkness, shall they fare Forth, and my bride among them, whom they bear