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 She sought and drew the gold cup forth and smiled Marvelling, with such light wonder as a child That hears of glad sad life in magic lands; And bare it back to Tristram with pure hands Holding the love-draught that should be for flame To burn out of them fear and faith and shame, And lighten all their life up in men's sight, And make them sad for ever. Then the knight Bowed toward her and craved whence had she this strange thing That might be spoil of some dim Asian king, By starlight stolen from some waste place of sands, And a maid bore it here in harmless hands. And Iseult, laughing—'Other lords that be Feast, and their men feast after them; but we, Our men must keep the best wine back to feast Till they be full and we of all men least Feed after them and fain to fare so well: So with mine handmaid and your squire it fell That hid this bright thing from us in a wile:' And with light lips yet full of their swift smile, And hands that wist not though they dug a grave, Undid the hasps of gold, and drank, and gave, And he drank after, a deep glad kingly draught: And all their life changed in them, for they quaffed Death; if it be death so to drink, and fare As men who change and are what these twain were. And shuddering with eyes full of fear and fire And heart-stung with a serpentine desire