Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/159

 And died before the darkness, like a song With harps between and trumpets blown along Through the loud air of some triumphant day, Sink through his spirit and purge all sense away Save of the glorious gladness of his hour And all the world about to break in flower Before the sovereign laughter of the sun; And he, ere night's wide work lay all undone, As earth from her bright body casts off night, Cast off his raiment for a rapturous fight And stood between the sea's edge and the sea Naked, and godlike of his mould as he Whose swift foot's sound shook all the towers of Troy; So clothed with might, so girt upon with joy As, ere the knife had shorn to feed the fire His glorious hair before the unkindled pyre Whereon the half of his great heart was laid, Stood, in the light of his live limbs arrayed, Child of heroic earth and heavenly sea, The flower of all men: scarce less bright than he, If any of all men latter-born might stand, Stood Tristram, silent, on the glimmering strand. Not long: but with a cry of love that rang As from a trumpet golden-mouthed, he sprang, As toward a mother's where his head might rest Her child rejoicing, toward the strong sea's breast That none may gird nor measure: and his heart Sent forth a shout that bade his lips not part, But triumphed in him silent: no man's voice, No song, no sound of clarions that rejoice,