Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/74

 Or earth beneath were moved at heart and root To burn as they, to burn and bring forth fruit Unseasonable for love's sake; if tall trees Bowed, and close flowers yearned open, and the breeze Failed and fell silent as a flame that fails: And all that hour unheard the nightingales Clamoured, and all the woodland soul was stirred, And depth and height were one great song unheard, As though the world caught music and took fire From the instant heart alone of their desire. So sped their night of nights between them: so, For all fears past and shadows, shine and snow, That one pure hour all-golden where they lay Made their life perfect and their darkness day. And warmer waved its harvest yet to reap, Till in the lovely fight of love and sleep At length had sleep the mastery; and the dark Was lit with soft live gleams they might not mark, Fleet butterflies, each like a dead flower's ghost, White, blue, and sere leaf-coloured; but the most White as the sparkle of snow-flowers in the sun Ere with his breath they lie at noon undone Whose kiss devours their tender beauty, and leaves But raindrops on the grass and sere thin leaves That were engraven with traceries of the snow Flowerwise ere any flower of earth's would blow; So swift they sprang and sank, so sweet and light They swam the deep dim breathless air of night. Now on her rose-white amorous breast half bare, Now on her slumberous love-dishevelled hair,