Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/218

 By the lightning’s light of present revelation Shown, with epic thunder as from skies that frown, Clothed in darkness as of darkling expiation, Rose a vision of dead stars and suns gone down, Whence of old fierce fire devoured the star-struck nation, Till its wrath and woe lit red the raging town, Now made glorious with his statue’s crowning station, Where may never gleam again a viler crown.

King, with time for throne and all the years for pages, He shall reign though all thrones else be over-hurled, Served of souls that have his living words for wages, Crowned of heaven each dawn that leaves his brows impearled; Girt about with robes unrent of storm that rages, Robes not wrought with hands, from no loom’s weft unfurled; All the praise of all earth’s tongues in all earth’s ages, All the love of all men’s hearts in all the world.

Yet what hand shall carve the soul or cast the spirit, Mould the face of fame, bid glory’s feature glow? Who bequeath for eyes of ages hence to inherit Him, the Master, whom love knows not if it know?