Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/79

 Yea, surely as the day-star loves the sun And when he hath risen is utterly undone, So is my love of her and hers of me— And its most sweetness bitter as the sea. Would God yet dawn might see the sun and die!' Three years had looked on earth and passed it by Since Tristram looked on Iseult, when he stood So communing with dreams of evil and good, And let all sad thoughts through his spirit sweep As leaves through air or tears through eyes that weep Or snowflakes through dark weather: and his soul, That had seen all those sightless seasons roll One after one, wave over weary wave, Was in him as a corpse is in its grave. Yet, for his heart was mighty, and his might Through all the world as a great sound and light, The mood was rare upon him; save that here In the low sundawn of the lightening year With all last year's toil and its triumph done He could not choose but yearn for that set sun Which at this season saw the firstborn kiss That made his lady's mouth one fire with his. Yet his great heart being greater than his grief Kept all the summer of his strength in leaf And all the rose of his sweet spirit in flower; Still his soul fed upon the sovereign hour That had been or that should be; and once more He looked through drifted sea and drifting shore That crumbled in the wave-breach, and again Spake sad and deep within himself: 'What pain