Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/199

 Darker dawned the song with stormier wings above the watch-fire spread Whence from Ida toward the hill of Hermes leapt the light that said Troy was fallen, a torch funereal for the king’s triumphal head. Dire indeed the birth of Leda’s womb that had God’s self to sire Bloomed, a flower of love that stung the soul with fangs that gnaw like fire: But the twin-born human-fathered sister-flower bore fruit more dire. Scarce the cry that called on airy heaven and all swift winds on wing, Wells of river-heads, and countless laugh of waves past reckoning, Earth which brought forth all, and the orbed sun that looks on everything, Scarce that cry fills yet men’s hearts more full of heart devouring dread Than the murderous word said mocking, how the child whose blood he shed Might clasp fast and kiss her father where the dead salute the dead. But the latter note of anguish from the lips that mocked her lord, When her son’s hand bared against the breast that suckled him his sword, How might man endure, O Æschylus, to hear it and record?