Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/157

 Was ever sweet and good as summer air, And soft as dew when all the night is fair, And gracious as the golden maiden moon When darkness craves her blessing: so full soon His mind was light again as leaping waves, Nor dreamed that hers was like a field of graves Where no man's foot dares swerve to left or right, Nor ear dares hearken, nor dares eye take sight Of aught that moves and murmurs there at night. But by the sea-banks where at morn their foes Might find them, lay those knightly name-fellows, One sick with grief of heart and sleepless, one With heart of hope triumphant as the sun Dreaming asleep of love and fame and fight: But sleep at last wrapped warm the wan young knight; And Tristram with the first pale windy light Woke ere the sun spake summons, and his ear Caught the sea's call that fired his heart to hear, A noise of waking waters: for till dawn The sea was silent as a mountain lawn When the wind speaks not, and the pines are dumb, And summer takes her fill ere autumn come Of life more soft than slumber: but ere day Rose, and the first beam smote the bounding bay, Up sprang the strength of the dark East, and took With its wide wings the waters as they shook, And hurled them huddling on aheap, and cast The full sea shoreward with a great glad blast, Blown from the heart of morning: and with joy Full-souled and perfect passion, as a boy