Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/55

 And the shorn foam spun from the blades, and high The keel sprang from the wave-ridge, and the sky Glared at them for a breath's space through the rain; Then the bows with a sharp shock plunged again Down, and the sea clashed on them, and so rose The bright stem like one panting from swift blows, And as a swimmer's joyous beaten head Rears itself laughing, so in that sharp stead The light ship lifted her long quivering bows As might the man his buffeted strong brows Out of the wave-breach; for with one stroke yet Went all men's oars together, strongly set As to loud music, and with hearts uplift They smote their strong way through the drench and drift: Till the keen hour had chafed itself to death And the east wind fell fitfully, breath by breath, Tired; and across the thin and slackening rain Sprang the face southward of the sun again. Then all they rested and were eased at heart; And Iseult rose up where she sat apart, And with her sweet soul deepening her deep eyes Cast the furs from her and subtle embroideries That wrapped her from the storming rain and spray, And shining like all April in one day, Hair, face, and throat dashed with the straying showers, She stood the first of all the whole world's flowers, And laughed on Tristram with her eyes, and said, 'I too have heart then, I was not afraid.'