Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/212

 Whence the lights of heaven and hell above and under Shone, and smote the face that men bow down before, Thrice again one singer's note had cloven in sunder Night, who blows again not one blast now but four, And the fourfold heaven is kindled with his thunder, And the stars about his forehead are fourscore.

From the deep soul's depths where alway love abounded First had risen a song with healing on its wings Whence the dews of mercy raining balms unbounded Shed their last compassion even on sceptred things. Even on heads that like a curse the crown surrounded Fell his crowning pity, soft as cleansing springs; And the sweet last note his wrath relenting sounded Bade men's hearts be melted not for slaves but kings.

Next, that faith might strengthen fear and love embolden, On the creeds of priests a scourge of sunbeams fell: And its flash made bare the deeps of heaven, beholden Not of men that cry, Lord, Lord, from church or cell.