Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/37

 Lest the fang strike it.'—'Yea, the fang,' she said, 'Should it not sting the very serpent dead That stung mine uncle? for his slayer art thou, And half my mother's heart is bloodless now Through thee, that mad'st the veins of all her kin Bleed in his wounds whose veins through thee ran thin.' Yet thought she how their hot chief's violent heart Had flung the fierce word forth upon their part Which bade to battle the best knight that stood On Arthur's, and so dying of his wild mood Had set upon his conqueror's flesh the seal Of his mishallowed and anointed steel, Whereof the venom and enchanted might Made the sign burn here branded in her sight. These things she stood recasting, and her soul Subsiding till its wound of wrath were whole Grew smooth again, as thought still softening stole Through all its tempered passion; nor might hate Keep high the fire against him lit of late; But softly from his smiling sight she passed. And peace thereafter made between them fast Made peace between two kingdoms, when he went Home with hands reconciled and heart content, To bring fair truce 'twixt Cornwall's wild bright strand And the long wrangling wars of that loud land. And when full peace was struck betwixt them twain Forth must he fare by those green straits again, And bring back Iseult for a plighted bride And set to reign at Mark his uncle's side.